


A to Z

by Ramul



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Character(s), Alien Flora & Fauna, Alien Planet, Ambiguous Relationships, Amputation, Artificial Intelligence, Beaches, Biopsy, Boats, Cohabitation, Computer Viruses, Corpses, Costumes, Decoy, Desert, Dick Jokes, Drug Smuggling, Episode Style, Escape, Escort, Extortion, Fights, First Meetings, Forests, Giant Trees, Harassment, Hospitals, Illustrations, Infestation, Infiltration, Interrogation, Interstellar travel, Meadow, Medical Procedures, Organized Crime, Other, Poisoning, Police, Prosthetics, Public Transportation, Research, Riding, Robots, Science Fiction, Sea, Sea Monsters, Sharing a Bed, Space Station, Spaceships, Storms, Swearing, Telepathy, Tentacles, Theft, Thief, Tree Climbing, Unethical Experimentation, added images, binary system, biochemical incompatibility, canyon, creative use of telekinesis, flying mount, giant predator, mass spektrometry, maybe platonic maybe not, medical organ printer abuse, moon base, pit fight, red dwarf star, red giant, river - Freeform, scientists - Freeform, space fantasy, spaceship's cat, tidelocked planet, vagabond buddies in space, weapon dealers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:26:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 90,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21549082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ramul/pseuds/Ramul
Summary: The Known Galaxy is huge. It is encompassing many different habitable planets, bases and space stations populated by a multitude of species forming a large variety of biomes and cultures - experienced through the eyes, ears and antennae of Zekra and Arqeez, a foul-mouthed Serkanian pilot of a decrepit spaceship and ger Idrath companion, who is as stupid as he is horny.
Relationships: Original Character(s)/Original Character(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9





	1. Easy come, easy go

**Author's Note:**

> The first episode is basically an introduction, dealing with a person transport between the planets of a binary system.

As the harbour pub's door swung open, the music quietly tootling in a corner was droned out by the pattering of rain outside. Kushantee looked up from her calculations to examine her new customer.

It were two – the smaller one was mostly obscured by a dark, dripping coat, but the brown and white striped face and the pair of long antennae curving above told her this was unmistakably a g-type Serkanian. The bigger one... despite Kushantee priding herself to have seen and be able to identify a lot of the sapient species frequenting the place, she was at a loss this time. It was a vertically oriented exoskeletal with four arms, the same number of eyes and a dark grey colouration with some orange accents. It was also unclothed. Maybe it wasn't a sapient at all, but some sort of exotic pet? One thing was for sure, these were no customers she had seen in her pub before.

Kushantee arranged the colourful plates circling her head in a manner to indicate friendliness as the two strangers approached the bar, letting their gazes wander over the walls decorated with local weaveries, and the few other customers that were present at this early time of the day.

“Good afternoon, what can I offer?”

“Just tap water for the two of us,” the Serkanian said.

The friendliness signaled by Kushantee's head plates became uncertain for a few moments. Due to Fenjerra law treating water as a public right, every pub, inn or restaurant was required to give water to anyone who asked, without demanding compensation.

“Maybe I could offer you home-distilled gimsh root instead? The latest batch has turned out fantastic. Or if you're not that type, we have a large selection of viiri to offer,” she asked in the hope of sparking the visitor's interest in something that would have her paid.

The Serkanian leaned forwards and put on a face expression that could best be described as the parody of an amiable smile due to the jagged orange tooth plates showing. “I don't know how often you have flown with gnat-category ships, but after weeks of drinking anything with water that has gone through the waste filter a dozen times, ordinary clean tap water will start to look like the most desirable thing that can be poured into a glass, moreso than the most exclusive and expensive beverage you can find on this planet. Besides, we are not here to spend money, but to earn it.”

“What makes you think I am hiring?” Kushantee asked as she filled two kegs with the requested liquid.

“Nothing,” the Serkanian replied. “But I do bet the people putting notices on the hoarding do.”

Kushantee gave the Serkanian a measuring look. “It is a bit unusual that someone arrives on one of Fenjerra's harbours and the first thing they do is to walk into a pub to ask for private job offers.”

The hoarding was for anyone who wanted to offer tasks so small and insignificant that they preferred to have them done past all the paperwork and taxes involved in proper work contracts, or had other reasons to do so. Of course, this also attracted a lot of illegal activity. Kushantee might refuse to put up any contracts that involved murder, drug traffic or anything else of that scale, but it still didn't stop some rather unsavoury visitors interested in doing such. The tall armoured creature that had finished the keg in one go and was examining it like a rare gem now looked like it could break bones with a casual swipe of its big arms and Kushantee couldn't tell what the Serkanian might have hidden underneath ger coat. But on the other hand, these were recent off-planet arrivals, likely no ties to the local criminal gangs and judging by what the Serkanian had said before, maybe they were just looking for quick money to replace their ship's waste filter...

She still decided to hand the Serkanian the pad where all the current notices were written down. Taking it, ge scrolled through them, sipping the water and commenting the job offers.

“Hm, that one is clearly a ripoff, already taken, takes too much time to do, I wonder why they specify 'Limarians only' on that one. Wait, there's one... 'shipping Gerenti flour', hah, as if it's not obvious it's kuronite. Don't have the right ship for that, promising but also taken, sooo... Arqeez, I can pick between two. There is an on-planet document delivery that wants to be done in the time span of a rev, but because no planet bothers to finance its universities properly, the pay is not nearly as good as the other, which is a person transport over to the twin planet. Not much info on that besides the address, but 80000 remies... I would do that and I fucking _hate_ person transports.”

The large individual accompanying the Serkanian finally spoke up with a rumbling voice, revealing to be a sapient after all. “Person transport doesn't sound bad. Can always break their legs if they make problems.”

“Except I prefer, you know, not to do that,” the Serkanian replied with a side glance at ger companion. Then, ge focused on Kushantee. “Ti 488 Galin, where is that? What sort of people live there?”

“Quite affluent ones, but not the big fish. It's a quiet, clean corner of the city.”

“Soo, an affluent person using the hoarding for a person transport despite being probably able to afford every security company they want, public or private?”

Kushantee made a brief rattle with her head plates, her species' equivalent of a chuckle. “Well, if I'm not mistaken about who lives at that address, he would have a hard time to hire any security companies. They don't particularly like each other, after he made some things public they would have rather preferred not being known.”

“That would explain a few things,” the Serkanian said, handing the pad over to Kushantee, then finishing ger keg. “I will take it.”

“What name should I tag the notice with?”

“Zekra.”

The brief stop in the harbour pub had done nothing to reduce the amount of water pouring from the low-hanging clouds. It dripped from the roofs, from the signs and satellite discs, ran down the walls and formed rivulets on the streets, carrying pieces of discarded litter with it.

Arqeez sneezed for the third time after leaving the pub, as the rainwater kept running down his neck and trickling into his spiracles.

“Told you to put on a coat,” Zekra quipped. Ge was walking in front, from Arqeez’ perspective nothing but a dark grey coat with two pale antennae sticking out on top.

“When are we there?”

“Not that far. You are asking this question for the fourth time.”

Their path led them through the winding alleys between the quadratic buildings made of thick, layered concrete to keep the temperatures inside stable. Talin was a city built atop a mesa rising several kilometres above the ground, the result of the large space harbour put there to keep it and its noise away from the older settlements in the valleys. Neither the noise nor the drastically changing temperatures between day and night were a deterrent for those seeking ways to make money out of the harbour and its visitors. Those in turn attracted others to make money out of _them_ , until most of the mesa was covered in a self-sustaining city, connected to the valley by an enormous elevator system transporting cargo and people alike.

“When are we there?”

“Ask me again and I will leave you here.” A small shift in Zekra's pace. “Or nevermind, we _are_ there.”

Ge was heading for a building that looked like all others. They seemed to be a bit bigger here compared to those erected in proximity of the pub, a bit more spaced apart, but it were the same concrete boxes with rounded edges and tiny windows.

“I do not have a good feeling about this,” Zekra quietly said while slowing down before standing in front of the door. The doorbell was found after a few moments of search. “Let this passenger not be a slob, some rascal, of a smelly or of a wet-skinned species. Just someone who can sit down in a corner for the duration of a flight and not make any problems.”

The door slid upwards.

“Oh _shit_ ,” ge muttered under ger breath, as the individual behind it turned out to be anything but, as it was unmistakably a Shaoon.

Like Arqueez and Zekra, it was a carbon-based, vertically oriented lifeform that had legs, but that was where the similarities ended. The dark grey body had the rough shape of a cylinder covered in bulges and creases following a complicated, radially symmetric pattern. The legs it stood on were thin, knobbly and numerous. Above them, many staring red eyes were arranged in a ring circling the body.

The Shaoon made a number of whistling, gurgling and hissing sounds. After a few moments' offset, the universal translator strapped to a leg repeated what was said in Unicomlang, with a deep, mellifluous but monotone voice.

“Greetings. What is your concern?”

“The notice on the pub hoarding. The one about the person transport to the twin planet,” Zekra said. Despite ger trying to hide it, Arqeez did notice ger discomfort in the presence of the Shaoon. There was a tenseness the coat couldn't hide and ger voice was slightly louder than usual, slightly more strained.

“Ah yes, please come in. It is better when we work out the details of the contract inside, where you do not have to drown where you are standing.”

As if on cue, Arqeez sneezed out water again.

The inside of the Shaoon's home was surprisingly spacious for the appearance its exterior. Zekra tapped the large companion's arm to get his attention.

“Do as this guy says, don't break anything and _for fuck's sake, be quiet_ ,” ge whispered.

“Please leave your coat at the vestibule,” the Shaoon said from further inside. “It is dripping wet.”

“Where should I hang it?” As Zekra fumbled open the cord around the neck from the inside, an appendage wormed its way out of the hood, wrapped around it and pulled the coat backwards, stripping it off. Ge held the coat by ger tail behind ger, letting the water drip onto the doormat rather than the carpets.

“The rock carving to the right.”

The rock carving in question seemed to be the stylized head of a horned animal on a socket. Hanging the coat onto one of the horns and taking off the shoes out of habit, Zekra followed the Shaoon and Arqeez into the house proper.

Due to the tiny windows it was illuminated by an artificial light source even during the day, an oily yellow light that shone on the Shaoon's sizable collections of the most different items. Despite the quadratic layout the usable interior space was round with the guardrail of the flight of winding stairs leading to the cellar in its middle. The edges had been filled in by shelves reaching up to the ceiling, stuffed with various data storage devices ranging from books and scrolls to 5D optical crystals as well as a variety of artefacts coming from different cultures inhabiting different planets. The Shaoon showed them a lounge, wide and low to accommodate their own anatomy and took a seat themselves on a wide, round pillow, their equivalent of an armchair. The lounge creaked in protest as Arqeez slouched down on it.

“I see you are not from here,” the Shaoon stated. “Accordingly, I also assume you do not have anything to do with the Mesa Guardship, Talin Safety or any other security companies. If this is not true, tell me otherwise.”

“No, didn't have the pleasure to deal with any of them. We have landed here just a few tert-UTUs ago.”

“That leads me to my next question, are you in possession of an own ship or do you use public transit?”

“An own ship, if you can call it that. Gnat category.”

“What other passengers are on it for the next flight?”

“Just us two. Unless you count the karucat, but that one is living in the storage room.”

“A spaceship pet, how unusual,” the Shaoon mused, shifting his position a bit. “There is one more question before I can accept the contract. Did any of you receive self-defense training?”

Zekra tensed up even further. “I don't want to sound rude, but what sort of threat is there that you are less likely to overcome than us?”

The Shaoon paused a few moments. “In either case, it is not about me. The person you are to transport is my daughter, who wants to visit her mother living on the twin planet. She might be young, but she can take care of herself. The self-defense will concern your own safety. You see, there are reasons I can not trust the security companies. I work as a lawyer and have uncovered and published information on a complex and deep-reaching network of corruption and illegal activity the companies are heavily tied into, the details of which I will not bother you with. But the sum of it is that some employees of the security companies have taken a liking to threaten, sometimes even attack the associates of me or my family. Hence I want to make sure that you can defend yourself in case of you crossing ways with these subjects.”

“I had some combat training back on Serkanis. And Arqeez, well, his skills in that department are exactly as his appearance suggests.” As if to demonstrate, Arqeez took on a slightly more intimidating pose.

“In that case, I will accept you for the contract.” The Shaoon briefly turned the universal translator off to shout something in his native language, with an answer coming from below. The following minutes were spent with him asking about details concerning the ship, telling the address of his former wife and sending all the important data to Zekra's wrist computer, which used them to calculate the right flying route. The Shaoon was fine with the time it would take; not as fast as public transit or a ship with a more modern drive, but still faster than waiting for the next interested with the right qualifications.

“I am ready.” The voice came from the universal translator of the Shaoon's daughter, who had emerged from the winding stairs. Aside from the colourful band of pouches strapped around her midsection she was a carbon copy of her father, just half as tall. “Are you the escorts?”

“Yes my dear, these are Arqeez and Zekra, interstellar travelers,” her father replied. “Be safe, Deyuujey, and greet your mother from me.”

“Will do!”

To their luck, the rain had finally stopped. It was still overcast and there were still puddles and diminishing rivulets on the streets, but at least there was no downpour adding to them any more.

Zekra's coat had been stuffed into the bag slung over the blue tunic with triangular patterns and Arqeez was much more relaxed with no water running into his airways or sticking the hairs of his antennae together. The massive Idrath took his time looking around and trying to decipher what the signs on some of the houses meant by the pictures alone, as he couldn't read. Deyuujey was trailing behind him.

“Looks like they serve food in there,” Arqeez said, pointing at one of the signs showing a steaming bowl. “Maybe we could go in and have some?”

“May I remind you that we have a fucking job to do? We bring the kid to her mother, get paid and then we can go in and fucking have some.”

“You need a break. I'm fine waiting for the food until we are on the ship but if fucking is that much on your mind we could find a quiet-”

Arqeez' twaddling was interrupted by Zekra's tail tip cracking over his chest. Usually, ge aimed for his face when his spoken thoughts ended up there, but this time, ge was walking at a greater distance, seemingly in a hurry.

“For fuck's sake, might I remind you that we have a child with us? So maybe plug that direct connection you have between your tongue and your gonads or you will stay here and I will not guarantee that I will return to pick you up after I'm done,” Zekra hissed.

Arqeez just chuckled as an answer but kept his thoughts to himself otherwise.

The Serkanian's abrasiveness didn't go past the young Shaoon at the back. Due to her father's work she had seen a fair deal of abrasive people, but those usually acted more aggressive. Zekra in turn looked like ge was trying ger best to _avoid_ her, walking at a pace that regularly forced ger to slow down and let the others catch up. She knew why the other people were like that, but if she understood right, these two had nothing to do with the security companies. Did the Serkanian have anything against her personally rather than just by association because of her father?

At least, the harbour came into sight, which brought her closer to being by her mother.

With the rain having ended, the empty streets were slowly filling again. Omur had spent enough time inside and was aiming for the pub now. The job as security personnel might pay well, but the weather on the mesa was a thing of its own and he surely wouldn't spend his day off in the rain too if he could avoid it.

At least there were still not many people in the streets. Most of them where the native Kshimit, but those were neither bothered by the cold of the nights nor the regular rain torrents, their thick oily integument protecting them from both. Among those that weren't Kshimit, he saw an Aeen striding through the neighbouring street on its long, stiltlike legs and... _oh, that was interesting_ , he noted with a savage grin.

A little Shaoon staggering past an intersection, that damn lawyer's daughter in person. She seemed to have company, apparently Ejuutun had hired someone stupid or desperate enough to escort her. With the direction she was heading into being the space harbour, he was pretty sure where she wanted to go. Omur would give his friends a call; they also had a day off and had decided to spend it on the twin planet. They would appreciate the extra fun.

“And there we are.”

The _Sciara_ wasn't much to look at. It wasn't big or fancy, a simple and functional model that clearly had its best days behind it. It was just slightly bigger than one of the regular dwellings of the mesa, the more spacious cellar drilled into the rock not counted. The only thing that livened up its surprisingly boring appearance was nose art depicting a female exoskeletal in a lascivious pose, showing off her engorged abdomen. As usual, Arqeez was admiring the pinup while Zekra opened the door.

“This is your ship?” Deyuujey asked, admiring the vessel.

“Yes,” was Zekra's sole answer. “Go inside and fix yourself with security belts, I will take off immediately. We have a window of clearance to start right now and I don't want to waste any sec-UTU of it. Arqeez, show her where she can sit in the living room.”

The interior was, as expected from a ship designed to keep a maximum of five people in a 50 to 300 kg weight class alive for months at a time, cramped. Everything that wasn't directly installed into the ship was tied down with security belts, held by magnets or hook-and-loop strips or otherwise attached. The ship's inbuilt furnishings had a minimal size and could for the most part be retracted into the walls or floor of the ship to save space, like the foldable pallets in the anterior portion of the living room. One of the bottom ones was removed, with two mattresses lying in its place. Arqeez directed the young Shaoon there while Zekra immediately slinked off to the bridge, sliding the door shut behind ger.

“Use those belts to secure yourself and tie them well. Like this,” Arqeez demonstrated as he tied a pair together around her midsection. “Tie them well, because Zekra flies like crazy.”

In that moment, the _Sciara_ 's turbines howled to life and rattled the entire ship. That was the cue for Arqeez to leave Deyuujey to her own devices and go to the bridge himself, considering the only unoccupied place to secure himself for the start in the living room was now occupied.

With the door closed behind him and his posterior in the copilot seat, Arqeez asked about what had nagged him since the moment he saw Zekra's first reaction to the Shaoon.

“What is it with you and the walking cylinder? I have never smelled you so afraid. Did you have any bad encounters with him before?”

“No, that's not it. I have nothing against him personally, it's just... how to explain it...” Zekra rubbed ger right hand over ger face, the left being on the steering module. The ship took off, first rising over the ground several ten metres, then the turbines slowly tilted backwards to carry the _Sciara_ in the opposite direction.

“How do you think a species that is basically a fleshy cumulonimbus cloud on legs survives and thrives in an environment filled with predators and natural calamities?”

“Urghhh...” Arqeez said, trying to process what Zekra had asked him.

“Well, let me rephrase it in a way more understandable for you. Think of how the Shaoon look. Now think of Idrath. And now, think of the two Shaoon going to Idrath. How long do you think would they survive there?”

Arqeez' antennae rose triumphantly. “They wouldn't make it a night!”

“Now, what if I tell you that the next morning they are both alive and well, surrounded by dozens of corpses of the largest predators around which are bleeding out of their spiracles?”

Arqeez just wordlessly stared at his companion.

The ship shot over the cliff of the mesa, giving them a brief glimpse of the steaming jungles in the valleys below before everything was engulfed in the low-hanging clouds filling the sky.

“Shaoon have the most powerful telekinetic abilities in the entire known galaxy. This is why they can allow themselves to look like they do and fear no consequences.”

“But you can use telekinesis, too.”

Zekra snorted. “My telekinetic abilities are a fart compared to their hurricane. They could turn your internal organs into mush with a thought if they so desire. Just a few of them are enough to stop a tsunami. That little girl back there could probably launch this ship into orbit if she wanted, with not a drop of fuel spent. And exactly that is the core of the problem, their abilities are so astronomically powerful that they will constantly bleed telekinetic waves, no matter what they do. You might not notice this, but I,” ge wiggled ger antennae for emphasis, “I do. It's like someone is screaming the entire time, except you hear it in your bones rather than your ears.”

The cloud layer thinned and vanished, revealing a brilliant, dark blue sky, dominated by the large, blue and brown orb of Fenjerra's twin planet, Fenjatis. Zekra turned the turbines off and activated the antigravity drive. The howling stopped and the rattling died down.

“This will take a few tert-UTUs, because I can't properly accelerate for this short distance. I will tell when I'm about to enter the atmosphere.”

Both removed their safety belts, Zekra shifting into a more comfortable position and lowering the screen to kill time on the nexus, Arqeez getting up to grab some food.

“The biggest brain in the known galaxy, but still doesn't stop them from from their main unnatural cause of death being suicide,” came from the pilot seat. Looking back while the door slid down again, Arqeez spotted lots of text on the screen, accompanied by a picture of a Shaoon.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are about to enter the atmosphere, time to buckle up” cracked over the speakers. That was the cue for Arqeez to head back to the bridge.

“So, what is our passenger doing?”

Arqeez fastened the security belts and checked if they were properly closed. “Had her fun figuring out the alga farm.”

The _Sciara_ dove into the cloud layer.

“Do you feel her from here? Through the door and such?”

“The distance makes it more bearable. Well, at least it won't take long any more. It seems like both her parents have a thing for the proximity of spaceship harbours, so all we have to do is to land this bucket, take a brief walk and _shit_!”

The cloud layer peeled away to reveal a herd of enormous, orange animals lazily floating through the sky with the aid of hydrogen bladders. Zekra jerked the steering module sharply to the left, to which the _Sciara_ reacted with half an aileron roll between two airborne bodies before making a sharp turn upwards to evade a third.

“How the fuck are these airbags so close to the harbour!?”

More breakneck maneuvers followed, some of which made the _Sciara_ 's instruments flare up with protesting lights and bleeping on the console. Zekra had all four limbs on the steering module while jerking it in the direction required while Arqeez had the claws of all his arms buried in the seat, staring at one orange body after another shooting past in horrified silence. They were few things that could terrify the Idrath and Zekra's flying was among the top of the list.

The last flier passed them and Zekra brought the ship back on course. “I hope Dey had fastened the safety belts properly. Well, I haven't heard anything big and loose flying around in the back room, so I guess she did.”

Arqeez spent the time until the landing in silence, still trying to calm down from the flight through the swarm. The moment the howling of the turbines went down, he got out of the copilot seat and staggered towards the living room. Zekra turned the ship off and was to follow right after him.

Despite the nausea and his currently unreliable sense of balance, Arqeez was curious how the Shaoon had fared, but she was sitting where he had last seen her, several of her legs bobbing up and down.

“That was fun! Can we do this again?”

The reason for the blimp swarm in the proximity of the harbour seemed to be a simple one: it wasn't frequented that much. Zekra could have told that much when ge was given landing permission almost immediately after requesting and the entire space of the harbour held nothing but a handful of personal ships, two transit shuttles and one larger transporter.

This part of Fenjatis was nicer than Fenjerra's mesa. While also overcast, it was dry and would stay so according to the weather forecast, so the bag with the coat had been left in the ship. The temperatures were more pleasant in this lowland part close to the coast, so even if they had to stay here longer than expected, they wouldn't have to deal with any significant drops after nightfall. Not that it was likely; while it had been dark on Fenjerra's mesa for some time already, here it was just midday.

Compared to Talin and it's dependence on its space harbour, the coastal town of Olum Set was mostly a small holiday resort with a long history, reflected in its rounded buildings with patterns painted onto white walls. Its popularity was mostly shared among the natives, as compared to the empty harbour, the roads were filled with microbusses and animal-drawn carriages ferrying gaggles of blue-spotted families around.

The three left the wider, more frequented streets behind and dove into the narrower, quieter alleys of the old settlement quarter, where Deyuujey's mother had her house. Despite the age of the buildings, they were surprisingly well-maintained. The young Shaoon was excited; many things have changed in her life, but the appearance of the old settlement quarter has always been an axiomatic constant in her life. Arqeez let his gaze wander while Zekra didn't pay much attention to the surroundings, focusing more on the route shown on ger wrist computer that navigated them through the convoluted alleys. Deyuujey could have easily shown the two the way to mother's home herself.

“That one smells nice,” Arqeez commented the fragrance of food wafting through the air, his antennae vibrating. “Zekra, can we stop here when we are done?”

As no answer came, Arqeez lowered his head and almost walked into his partner, who had stopped. The reason was a group of four, emerging from a side alley and blocking their way. They were composed of non-natives; two Molurians that were as taciturn as they were tall, one Sharkaz with her head tentacles spread in a domination gesture and a sleazy-looking Tolemo.

“And what do we have here,” the Tolemo said, his arms spread as if he was greeting a pair of friends he hadn't seen for a long time. “Ejuutun's little girl, all alone in the presence of shady strangers.”

“Except those two strangers have been given the permission to be around her, unlike you,” Zekra answered. “Bother someone else, we have a job to do.”

Arqeez knew what was up, this was not the first time they had to deal with this sort of individuals. Zekra subtly signaled him to keep back, so he alternated between glaring at the Tolemo and eyeing the Sharkaz.

“Oh, a _job_ ,” the Tolemo mockingly repeated, his skin colour changing from a muddy green to yellow. “I will bet one of my cerci that you are moonlighting, because we have security companies for those kind of jobs. It is not the nicest thing to do, you know, robbing honest workers of a contract.”

 _So, that's what those pricks are after_ , Zekra thought, slightly shifting ger position. _Exactly what the Shaoon had warned about_.

“You mean a contract the security companies wouldn't have done anyway? Well, too bad, first come, first served. Now scram, or do you want this poor little girl to spend time in the presence of us shady strangers longer than she should?”

“I will tell you, something, Serkanian,” the Tolemo growled, “your presence here and your kind of associations are not wanted. Not yours and not of our bug calamite.”

Arqeez' four eyes were following the Tolemo's quieter companions, which began to spread out to encircle the two.

“I will repeat myself for you, translated into something you will get easier. Fuck off,” Zekra said, ger antennae now flat on ger head.

“Not before you answer me a question,” the Tolemo said with a filthy grin. “How many Serkanians does it take to feed a rutuk?”

“I will answer your question with a question of my own,” Zekra replied with ger arms folded behind ger back and a grin showing ger tooth plates. “How many Serkanians does it take to rip off both your arms and shove them up your arse?”

The grin vanished from the Tolemo's face. “You will regret saying th-”

The sentence remained unfinished as the Tolemo was casually backhanded by Arqeez into the nearest wall. As he collapsed, the other three jumped at the Idrath.

“None, as it turns out. Arq, no killing!”

The Sharkaz chittered and screeched, her front claws futilely slashing after Arqeez had gotten a hold of them with three of his arms while shoving one of the Molurians to the ground with his fourth. With one of the attackers temporarily out of the way, he gave the Sharkaz' forelegs a twist and threw her onto her back.

The second Molurian, both looking for an easier target and not wanting to be too close to the fight with the Sharkaz, went at Zekra. The Serkanian grinned as ge ducked under the fist, grabbed his arm and pulled him forwards, making him stumble. A tail wrapped around his ankle and a pull brought the big off-duty security worker fully to the ground. Zekra used the momentum of ger own maneuver to strike an elbow against the base of the Molurian's head. Serkanian combat training had separate styles that used the features of the different morphotypes to their fullest, with the small and nimble g-types using techniques specialized on using the enemy's strength against themselves and quick, precise attacks against vulnerable spots. It was almost perfect for the slow, lumbering Molurian, albeit the thick, leathery skin meant it would take some time to deal any real damage.

“Is that all you got?” Arqeez laughed. He kicked the Molurian back on the ground again while wrestling the Sharkaz. The black quadruped had both her forelegs in a lock again, but used her tentacles this time. One went for the Idrath's eyes, who caught the appendage with his teeth and bit down until greenish-blue blood ran down his jaws. The other tentacle went into his right spiracle, which forced Arqeez to let go. The very same moment was used by the Molurian to jump onto Arqeez' back. The Idrath reacted to this maneuver like he usually did – falling backwards and landing with his massive weight and hard back exoskeleton on the attacker, leaving him dazed.

The Sharkaz grabbed the opportunity by the forelock, jumping on top and closing her teeth around one of the larger arms. Arqeez tried to kick her off, ignoring the muffled screams coming from underneath him.

Deyuujey had the time of her life watching the fight, bouncing on her legs and slowly turning around her axis, giving all her eyes running along her body a view of it. The big exoskeletal was fighting two enemies at once, able to keep them both at bay. He already had a number of scratches from the Sharkaz' claws, but he paid back tenfold when he struck against her side with such a force she screeched out in pain, not quite able to drown out the sound of at least one rib breaking.

The small Serkanian wasn't any less interesting to watch, dancing around ger bigger, stronger foe, letting him attack just to avoid the strikes and counterattacking. But alas, the tactic wasn't foolproof, as the Molurian managed to grab ger tail with the same hand it was wrapped around, then gave it a pull that sent the Serkanian to the ground. Triumphantly, he raised a foot to stomp onto his downed opponent, which made him fail to notice the flowerpot the Serkanian had hurled at his face with a hand gesture, the earth that got into his eyes providing enough distraction for ger getting back onto ger feet.

Deeyuujey squealed with excitement, having clearly felt the telekinetic discharge. “I can do that too!”

They had to finish the scrap as soon as possible. The Molurian was already adapting to Zekra's techniques and ge could hear Arqeez' panting from ger position. As strong as the Idrath was, as little stamina he had.

To ger surprise, the Molurian's charge ended with him flipping over, then rising up into the air, to the level of the roofs where he hung, arms waving and screaming in terror. The telekinetic waves that made ger exhale sharply told exactly what the reason for this phenomenon was.

“Haha, they are flying!” Arqeez commented between drawing winded breaths, looking up at the flailing Molurians and the Sharkaz.

Zekra was leaning on ger knees and turned ger head towards the young Shaoon. “I appreciate your help, but please let them go. Your powers hurt me.”

“Oh, sorry,” Deyuujey said, not realizing how much discomfort her simply holding up the three thugs was causing to her escort. She let them sink down to a height of two metres from which she released the telekinetic grip and dropped them onto the cobblestones. Was that also the reason for the Serkanian having kept ger distance to her throughout the travel?

“Well, that's what I call a soft landing,” Zekra commented the moaning heaps. The Tolemo, who had been out of the fight from the beginning, tried to pull himself up, using the wall he had been thrown at as support. “They seem fine enough to get their arses to the next hospital themselves. Thanks, Deyuujey, let's get moving. Your mother is waiting.”

Deyuujey's mother was indeed waiting. They let the two Shaoon have their reunion, patiently waiting for them being done with their greeting ceremony and the girl being sent into the house. The mother looked like the father, the only difference was that her preferred voice on the translator was much more melodious in tone. Zekra got the modules containing the 80000 remies as promised and the Shaoon was so generous to give them a tip of 500 additional remies for the fun her daughter had had on the way there.

“I would have never thought your flying would throw off such a good meal,” Arqeez said, scratching the scabs from the fight on his chest. The first thing they had done after leaving the Shaoon was for Arqeez to sniff his way to the inn he had noticed previously, where they had eaten their fill.

“Maybe I should take more contracts concerning person transports,” Zekra agreed. “Preferably not Shaoon, though, my head still hurts.”

“Well, maybe I have a way to-”

A tail struck Arqeez against the side of the face.

“Yes, there is a way. I find the closest brothel, drop you there with enough money to have the entire personnel including the janitor twice over and fly off while you are busy.” Zekra was quite sure ger threats of leaving the Idrath on whatever planet they currently were had lost their teeth long ago. It was not like they were serious – Arqeez was simply too useful and the fact he had saved ger life on not than just one occasion proved him to be a valuable companion, as annoying and embarrassing as he was.

“Either way, we will have to visit a number of establishments. Giving the _Sciara_ a paintjob, a modern waste filter, repair the airlock,...”

Once again, several people emerged from a side alley, blocking their way. Except this time, their vests were emblazoned with the logo of Olum Set's law enforcement and they were armed with electric stunners.

“You are arrested for assault and potential child endangerment!”

As the sun was setting on Olum Set, the sky had cleared up, allowing a beautiful view of Fenjerra in the fire-coloured sky.

The visitors were either on their ways to the hotels to spend the night there or out for the pubs and other night life activities. Only few figures had other things in mind in the sleepy coastal town with a long history, among them were a Serkanian and an Idrath walking in the direction of the space harbour.

“I could have expected this shit to happen,” Zekra mithered. “Every time I get paid, some stupid shit has to appear and eat it up.”

Most of the earnings from the contract had been shelled out for the bail, and after the most vital necessities had been paid for, like replacing the water reserves of the _Sciara_ , buying food rations and refueling the ship, there was not much left.

“Why not going back and taking that other contract?” Arqeez suggested.

“Forget that. I'm done with this system. All it will get us are more encounters with shitscratchers from the security companies after those four got their clocks cleaned.”

Zekra walked a few minutes in silence, focused on ger wrist computer.

“Teekal isn't too far away. I heard they grow really good viiri ingredients there, maybe we could fill up the storage room with some and sell it somewhere along the way. Mostly arid biomes, too, so rain will be unexpected. What do you think of that?”

Arqeez passed a glance to the twin planet in the sky. “Wherever you want to go.”


	2. Handling illegal goods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A visit to a space station and an agreememt to smuggle drugs into a mining colony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite being the second chapter, this was the first one I had figured the details out for. For reference, a tertiary Universal Time Unit is roughly 1,5 hours and UTUs stack by 80.

It was weird waking up in complete darkness. Arqeez fumbled for the fastening of the safety belts with his smaller pair of hands while a bigger arm was searching for the light switch on the wall. The lamps flickered to life and made finding the fasteners a lot easier. The moment they opened, the belts retracted into the wall, releasing the large exoskeletal from his position on the mattress lying in the corner.

Sleeping while tied up was uncomfortable but necessary, especially considering who steered the ship. Speaking of the pilot...

Arqeez walked in the direction of the bridge, grabbing himself several food ration packages from a box nearby on the way. They tasted like sponge soaked in broth, but were surprisingly filling for something so small. One block between his teeth and several more in hand, Arqeez pushed the panel that opened the door.

Loud noise was the first thing that greeted him. Arqeez could recognize it as some kind of Kun Esh folk music, which meant it had a heavy beat and a lot of low frequency notes that made different parts of the ship rattle in resonance. Arqeez walked up to the pilot seat, paying attention not to step on the brown and white patterned tail sticking out of a section sawed out of the seat's backside and coiled up on the ground.

“Morning, Arq,” came from the seat's front side, barely audible in between the loud music.

Arqeez gave his companion a look. “You look like you really need a break yourself now,” he said with the food ration still in his mouth. Zekra all but hung in the safety belts, both arms slung onto the steering module more as support rather than for controlling the ship. Ge had told once that Serkanians had a pretty high tolerance for extended waking periods, but they still had their limits.

“As much as I want to, I can't.” Zekra leant forward to push a button on the console and the music went quiet. “Hear for yourself.”

Arqeez needed a few moments to listen himself through the various humming and rattling noises that made up the soundscape of the _Sciara_.

“You mean the knocking?”

“Exactly. Some shit is loose in this bucket again and I have no clue which. That's why I have to be present, to keep tabs on it, hear if it changes or if it influences anything about the controls or the life support until I can land it for a repair. Well, at least I don't have to hang here for long.” Ge gestured at the window.

Only then Arqeez paid attention to what was going on outside. The sight was confusing: there was a weird object slowly growing in the view. It looked like a large city had been rolled up into a ravel, parts sticking out at random angles.

“Is that a planet?”

Zekra gave ger companion a look like ge caught him trying to drink the water from the alga farm. “It's a space station. Aun 74 Et, to be precise, also known as the garbage heap of the Tolemut quadrant. I wanted to avoid it, but with the ship dicking around, I have no other choice.”

Arqeez kept looking out of the window while opening another food ration package, examining the odd object called a space station. He could see a number of small ships swarming around it, entering and exiting ports or landing on marked platforms. Sometimes even parts of the space station itself detached and moved to different places to dock.

“But if you need to land there, why are you going around it? There are landing marks all over it.”

Zekra took a few seconds to answer. “There is a very specific repair station I'm approaching. Run by Skiamus. As unpleasant as this station is, that is one of its better elements.”

“Greetings, customer! How can I help you and your ship?”

There was a screen in the middle displaying a stylized face of a grinning Tolemo to interact with, yet Zekra couldn't help shifting ger gaze between the three cameras surrounding it. The jovial electronic voice came from a synthetic entity, a three-metre-long streamlined machine floating at eye height. They were inside a spacious hangar, the last airlock gate that let the _Sciara_ into the space station still closing. Several identically-looking synthetic entities were already examining and scanning the aged spaceship's exterior while other ships were being worked on on different platforms.

“A system check, there is a knocking sound when it is running. Aside from that, a sealing of the airlock. The leaks have been taped shut and allow its use in an atmosphere, but not in a vacuum.”

The Skiamu clicked its tools mounted to multiple arms attached at the bottom. “Understood. The estimated time for full restoration of the requested functions will take 17 tertiary Universal Time Units. Please return in an adequate time frame.”

“How much will it cost?”

“The estimated costs for the requested repairs are between 500 and 10000 Gams. Unfortunately, with the current lack of knowledge of the state of components to repair, a narrower frame cannot be given.”

“Well, let's hope it will be in the lower end. Have fun with the repairs.” The Skiamu's antigravity pads that held it in the air turned, made it swerve sideways and away. Zekra turned towards ger larger companion, who was watching the Skiamu floating away. “Arqeez, let's go, we have 17 terts to spend.”

“They are machines,” Arqeez stated while they walked towards one of the smaller gates leading out of the hangar and deeper into the station.

“Yes, so what? Skiamu repair stations have the best cost-performance ratio you will find in the known galaxy, because they only charge for material expenses with an additional charge that goes towards maintaining themselves, their tools and their station. They have no needs for having a living place, entertainment, families and all those other money sinks us organic lifeforms tend to have. Repairing machines is their only desire. That's why I can also leave them alone with the _Sciara_ and not expect anything to be stolen or anyone taking a dump in the ventilation system for fun.”

Arqeez looked back at the ship. “Speaking of leaving the ship, why not going back and sleep there? You are about to fall over.”

“That is one of the things _not_ to do in a Skiamu repair station. As amiable as they are, they have no consideration for anything not connected to their work. It will be loud and if they have to dismantle the wall with the pallet on it, they will screw it off with you still on it.” Ge sighed. “Well, off to find some shitty cheap dosshouse where the mattresses have formed their own ecosystems sourced from half the quadrant's planets.”

The inside of the space station proper corrobated Arqeez' comparison to a rolled-up city. Everything was either metal, plastic or ceramic, seemingly clobbered together with little regards what fitted to which. One moment they walked over solid metal plates clanking and bending under their feet, the next moment it were grids, allowing the view on tubes underneath, one of them leaking steam. Overhead, cables of various thickness and colour were tied to the ceiling in thick bundles. It was dark, noisy, stifling and cramped, stuffed to the brim with people and the wares they wanted to sell and buy.

Small stores and stands lined the narrow alleys, their owners loudly trying to get the attention of passerbys, mostly in Unicomlang, sometimes in one of the many other languages spoken in the quadrant. Similarly, the people present came from all over the place. Where on planets there was usually one or several species being dominant, Aun 74 Et harboured a wild mixture. Im Kpaz scurried between their feet, a Gthuor was praising his wares with inflated horns and a loud honking voice. A Sharkaz pushed herself through the crowd, proudly carrying a tiny male in a cage with one of her head tentacles while her diminutive nonsapient soon-to-be partner was chittering and flapping his wings behind the bars.

“This one looks promising,” Zekra muttered and vanished behind a door wedged between two stands. Arqeez had to duck to be able to follow.

The low, narrow door led into a room that was barely bigger, containing only a counter with a yellow-furred, bored-looking individual of unknown origin behind it. The moment they saw their visitors, the four piercing green eyes narrowed and the upper mouthparts rose straight up.

“Aah, new customers, come in, come in,” the individual said with a heavy accent.

“How much for one room for four to seven tert-UTUs?” Zekra asked, leaning on the counter.

“40 Gams, paid upfront.” The individual ducked under the counter and retrieved a reader, placing it on top. Zekra pulled a currency storage module from a pocket of the bag harness, unlocked it and shoved it into a port on the reader. Satisfied, the receptionist vanished behind the door in the wall behind the counter and came back with a roll of fabric and ropes soon after.

“Room 4 it is,” they said, placing the roll and two disc-shaped electronic keys on the counter.

“But don't be... too loud,” they added with with a slow blink and a quiver in the middle mouthparts which Arqeez figured was an equivalent of a dirty grin. He gave the receptionist a wary look and followed Zekra into the corridor to the rooms, which was as low and narrow as everything else in this establishment; he had to lower his head and even then his antennae brushed over the ceiling.

Calling the room's interior 'bare necessities' was already a stretch. A dim, flickering ceiling light revealed a toilet and a tap in one corner, a small, rickety table against a wall and two pairs of robust hooks on opposite tiled walls.

“Well, at least it is a way from preventing the spread of disease,” Zekra commented while unrolling the bundle. It was a hammock to be hung onto the hooks.

“Okay, Arqeez, this will take some time and will be really boring for you, but try not to move away from this inn too far,” ge said while hooking the hammock up. “Stay in sight of the entrance when you go out. I will leave a module for you. There is barely any money on it left so you can empty it out to get yourself some food and entertainment for the time being. 'Entertainment' excludes beating people up or breaking stuff, for the record. Sure, I will not forbid you self-defense, but for fuck's sake, don't _start_ anything.”

Zekra took off the bag harness and slung it over one of the hammock's ropes, removed the currency module in question and threw it over to Arqeez. Then ge clumsily got onto the hammock and a bit of shifting later, both shoes dropped out.

“But what if there are no places to get food while still staying in sight?” Arqeez wondered, turning the module and the electronic key in one pair of hands each. “I also wonder what sort of entertainment here is. Zekra, what about fighting rings? Are those fine?”

The only answer was silence.

At first, Arqeez wanted to stay in the room and wait, but after about two hours, it pulled him outside. Making sure the door was closed and secured, he walked the low corridor into the entry area. The four eyes of the receptionist were fixating him on his way.

“Time well spent, I presume?”

Arqeez paid him a brief glance. “No, just waiting. Tired of waiting.” He then stopped, facing the yellow individual and their staring eyes. “If you go in there and take Zekra's stuff or do any harm to ger, I _will_ find you and tear your limbs off.”

The individual's eyes narrowed and the upper mouthparts rose. “I wouldn't think of that in my dreams. We value the discretion of our customers here.”

Arqeez gave the receptionist a last look before he pushed the panel that opened the door to the outside.

Behind the door of the inn he was met with a cacophony of smells. The dominant one was that of the various metals and plastics the space station was composed of, but it was unable to hide the smells of the various nuances of unwashed bodies from a multitude of planets, the distinctive acridity of rust and fuel, the faint notes of decay. And of course, the alluring scent of food.

Following the strongest note of the more interesting food smells, Arqeez' feet carried him to a stand not far away from the inn. Looking back, he could see the door, so he was doing everything right. The stand in question was hissing with the sizzling of hot oil where a spindly exoskeletal was using all their four arms to dump, remove and turn around small orb-shaped things in several pans.

The exoskeletal turned one of their two iridescent stilted eyes into Arqeez' direction, the other one still jerking from pan to pan.

“Oh, hello, dear customer. Here to have some kunus, I presume?” Despite the cook being a completely different species than the receptionist, their voice was dripping with the same greedy sliminess.

“You mean those balls?”

“Of course I mean those balls.” The exoskeletal emitted an amused raspy chitter. “Judging by your size, you will likely want to have an extra large portion. That would be 12 Gams.”

Arqeez showed the cook the currency storage module to have him evaluate the red line that indicated how much was left. “Will this be enough?”

“More than enough.” One of the hands briefly interrupted its work to pull up a reader and tap some buttons while two others were shovelling finished kunus into a large one-use bucket. Arqeez did what he has seen his companion do many times and put the module into the reader's port after opening its protective cap, watching the red line on the module's screen shrink a bit, then removed it when the line started to blink.

With the module back in the pocket strapped around the base of his postabdomen and the bucket in a hand, Arqeez decided to spend his time eating the kunus while checking out the other stands in the vicinity of the inn. A lot of them didn't interest him, like the ones selling machine parts, souvenirs or cloth pieces. There was another food stand in the vicinity, but whatever was being cooked there smelled so unappealing Arqeez assumed it would be inedible to him. Zekra had told him to check if the food he ate was compatible with his biochemical profile or whatever ge had called it. But it was a complex array of letters and numbers he usually forgot right after hearing it, hence he preferred trusting his sense of smell, which hadn't failed him so far.

Speaking of smell, there was one entering between the metal and the weird stuff being cooked that grabbed his interest. It reminded him of the plants he had smelled several planets ago, mixed with cleaning powder and the wall paint used in the last planet's space terminal, yet it was different. It piqued his curiosity and made him follow the scent trail.

The scent carried him to a stand set in a niche in the wall, in a place of the space station that was not frequented much and poorly lit. The stand itself was partially overhung with dark, heavy cloth and manned by a rotund being with tiny eyes, head fans with complex folds and two movable tubes poking out of the tip of the upper jaw, apparently holding nostrils at their tips. On the table in front of the trader there were a number of round flat jars, which looked identical save for the differently-coloured stickers on their lids. The smells seemed to come from said jars.

“What are those supposed to be?” Arqeez asked the trader, pointing at the jars. “They smell strange.”

“Ooh, a connoisseur of arts I hear, welcome to my stand,” the trader piped. Unlike the receptionist and the food seller, this one's feelings seemed to actually match his words. “These are umi'qui boxes, an art form practised by us Varufoi. I will show you.”

The Varufoi took one of the jars and opened it, then put their tubes over the substance inside and took a slow, deep breath. “Ooun wood and Damelian algae with a hint of holom. The wood’s natural balsamic smell gets a note of spice from the algae and the holom rounds it off into a symphony of scent, I tell you. Try for yourself,” they said and handed the jar to Arqeez. Since his olfactory organs were not connected to his spiracles, he brought the jar up to his forehead and waved his feathered antennae above it. It was indeed an interesting smell. Usually, scents were separate elements for him, easy to pick apart and follow to their source. But this mixture made them... fit together surprisingly well? As if they were parts of one single olfactory construct, meant to be together.

The Varufoi seemed to notice Arqeez' confused expression. “You probably have seen drawings or paintings to be enjoyed by those with good vision or music and ranthouls for those with good hearing. Umi'qui boxes are like that, but for those with good sense of smell. It takes skill and talent to find smells that accentuate each other well and then to mix them together in their best amounts. Some other cultures use a primitive form of that to spray or smear the smells onto their bodies to cover their own odour, what a waste! Like burning a painting to warm yourself at the fire!” The Varufoi shook his head, folded and unfolded the head fans. “But I trail off. Here is one which I enjoy in particular. Hmm, can you guess what scent was used as the base?”

Arqeez put down the jar he had been given first and took the new one. The smell that came from it was surprisingly familiar.

“Machine oil?”

“Indeed!” the Varufoi clasped their chubby hands together with elation. “Such a simple everyday substance, yet I could turn it into a piece of art with Limarian herbs and Garmatian brine midge secretions! Now, let me smell you this one, my most recent creation!”

After a time that felt like several terts, Arqeez had smelled himself through the whole collection of the Varufoi's stand. He wanted to go back to the inn to check on Zekra, but as he turned around, there was no door of the inn in sight. Not a single part of the sight had any resemblance to the part where it was located, in fact.

Crap.

Arqeez took the branch-off that smelled most like the area with the inn, crumpling up and dropping the long-empty kunu bucket into a trash disposal. There were more people in the alley he had taken, walking in both directions without stopping. Arqeez followed the flow, checking the smell of the side alleys if it was more or less similar from what he remembered being close to the inn.

Where was it?

Zekra awoke to the sound of the flickering ceiling light. Uncurling, ge looked around. As expected, Arqeez was not present, so ge didn't bother staying in the room longer than needed.

“Six terts,” ge muttered while taking a look at the wrist computer. “Well, let's hope the big lug didn't get himself into trouble during that time.”

After ger stretching routine, Zekra put ger shoes and bag harness back on and rolled up the hammock, which ge put onto the receptionist's counter while leaving.

“Your friend has left about four and a half tert-UTUs ago, I presume,” the green-eyed individual said after being asked about Arqeez' whereabouts. I haven't seen them after that.”

“Well, thanks. I'm off, then.”

“Grace this establishment with your presence again soon,” the receptionist said with narrowed eyes and raised upper mouthparts.

Outside, the alleys of Aun 74 Et were as busy as usual. Some stands were erected, others dismantled, people walked from place to place, stopped at the stands, vanished and emerged from barely-visible doors. There was probably a member from every intelligent species of the entire quadrant present and there was rarely more than one of each species being visible, but none of those were an Idrath.

Zekra stood at the entrance for a few moments, checking the passerbys and the stands, but it seems Arqeez had indeed wandered out of the dosshouse's proximity.

“You fucking idiot,” the Serkanian groaned. Finding Arqeez in a regular city when he got lost was bad enough, but space stations were worse in every aspect. Zekra sought out the next food stand and asked the trader if he had seen the large, dark grey exoskeletal with orange marks and feathered antennae.

“Nnnot that I know, no,” the trader answered with a nasal, high-pitched voice. “I have opened the stand two terts ago, maybe he had left before I arrived?”

“Must have been that way, thanks.”

Two food stands later, Zekra had found a witness, a Zambularian who was selling kunus which he prepared right at the stand. “Yes, I saw an individual who would match the description. Bought a large bucket of kunus here. Do you want to buy a bucket yourself?”

“Not before I find him,” Zekra replied. “Did you see where he went afterwards?”

“This direction,” the Zambularian pointed with a tong. “Can't tell more, there were kunus to fry. I'm willing to give you a discount, considering a friend has brought you here, even if it wasn't by recommendation.”

“Not before I find him, as said.”

Zekra turned into the direction the Zambularian had pointed, but didn't get far. There was a six-legged machine standing in ger way, two additional manipulative limbs clicking. The top of it was mostly taken up by a glass dome that allowed a view inside, which was filled with water and contained either a Doburen or Xunnm; a skeleton-less, flattened aquatic with two large, mobile eyes and twelve tentacles, each on a separate lever in their mobile aquarium. The broad flat back, starting out with a greenish-brown colour, rapidly began to flash in a variety of colours and patterns.

“Hello, I have seen the individual you are searching,” a monotonous, robotic voice translated the flashes into Unicomlang. “They were walking around seaweed shortjaw-” the aquatic's flashes briefly stopped, then repeated at a slower pace. “They were walking around Hor 39 Alley, which you can reach by going left to the Jounur stand that mutilates... commonplace... sells the stitched kerchiefs. Excuse me, this new visual to auditory communication translator model is recently-installed and ellipsoid... cathode screen... concrete... rape and desiccate this fucking useless piece of electronic trash!” The individual's tentacles curled up in frustration and their flashes became red-tinted. “May the company that stuck it together get infested with worms and shit their own bowels out!”

“Thanks for the information, I think that is enough to find him but I need to hurry,” Zekra told the still swearing aquatic and sped off into the mentioned direction while trying to hide ger amusement at how the translator was able to give out the stream of profanities without a single fault.

The given directions led ger to a narrow alley, past several intersections and then up a metal ramp that connected with the space station layer above. This part was where the proper stores were located. Instead of small stands, inns and pubs that were focused on serving the newly-arrived, these were the parts where those staying for extended time spans or permanent residents of Aun 74 Et would find what they needed. It was not nearly as crammed as the exterior parts, not as stifling and cleaner. But while it was easier to scan the place for the lost companion, he was still nowhere to be seen. Not that he was easy to confuse with a different individual; as far as Zekra knew, he was the only Idrath native who was off-planet and hardly any other type of exoskeletal reached his size and mass.

After wandering the alleys for some time and asking various store owners if they had seen the Idrath with no results, Zekra decided it was time to take matters into ger own hands. Finding gerself a remote dead end where a few crates were stored and no one would disturb ger, ge crouched down, put both ger hands on the ground and closed ger eyes. A few slow breaths to calm ger hearts and clear ger mind, ge extended the antennae forwards.

Telekinesis was a skill that was understood as a means to move objects in space relative to the user. For this, the moved object had to be felt, otherwise it was impossible to give it directions or to even hold it in place. What many were not aware of was the possibility to use this telekinetic sensing as a way of perceiving the environment. Rather than focusing all energy on a single object to move around, it was spread out, used for nothing more than to touch the objects, to perceive where they were and how they moved relative to the user on their own. Focusing on moving objects was easier than on stationary ones, which allowed Zekra to check through a multitude of walking, gesturing people all around ger.

Yet, out of the schemes ge was perceiving not a single one had the shape of a four-armed, large exoskeletal.

Ge spread the perception further apart, stretched it so thin only the schemes of moving objects were visible. It was crucial to remain motionless while doing this, since every motion of gerself would mean the entire space station moving relative to ger, breaking ger concentration completely. Checking the new schemes that entered ger telekinetic perception, Zekra sensed a thin form that could only be a Bolourn run in and out just at the edge, a fight between a Gthuor and an equally large, unidentifiable species and... there he was!

Ger eyes shot open and the antennae flicked back into their usual position. Arqeez was deeper inside and two layers below. Having pinpointed his position and actually finding him were two different things, though – now it was to take the right alleys, find the right ramps or staircases and maybe even climb the right ventilation shafts.

“...And this is how we ended up here.” Arqeez nodded to his conversational partner. She just wanted to open her mouth again and continue when a familiar voice cut in.

“You brain-amputated imbecile! How the _fuck_ did you manage to get so far away from the inn when I have clearly told you to stay in visible range to its door?”

“Hello, Zekra!” Arqeez' face lit up at seeing his companion run over, who looked rather displeased in return.

“You moron could have gone lost here completely! Maybe even wound up _dead_ by bumbling into an area with an environment lethal for you or because someone decided to harvest your organs and dry them to sell as some quackery that enhances performance in the marital arts and other such shit!”

Arqeez shrugged. “But I'm alive and my organs are where they should be.” A brief look down. “Or at least I think so.”

“Arqeez, don't you want to introduce me to your friend?”

The two interplanetary travellers looked at the third person present. It was a female Tolemo standing at the display of a small store that sold various gadgets, both complete as well as in parts. Arqeez had outdone himself in winding up at the strangest places whenever he was unsupervised, as female Tolemos were a rarity outside Tolemut or its exclaves. Society expected them to stay home and they were travel-lazy by nature, preferring to run everything on their home planets and major settlements ranging from politics to home construction, while the males were those travelling around and seeking work off-planet, sending their earnings home to support their families from afar. Appropriately, the individual was shorter than a male but much bulkier, her advanced age and cushy life having only added to her mass, which her robes had a hard time hiding.

“This is Zekra, the one I'm travelling with. We share a spaceship together, breathe the same air, eat the same food, use the same-” Zekra reached up and put a hand over the Idrath's left spiracle to make him stop before he could share more irrelevant and probably more embarrassing details of how they mostly lived inside a glorified vacuum container.

“And we work together,” ge finished for him.

“That much has been told by Arqeez, yes,” the Tolemo snickered with her colouration turning yellow, then looked around. “In fact, we have been talking to each other about a little transport job I'm willing to pay for well. It is your personal possession, that spaceship you travel in, am I right?”

Zekra passed an annoyed side glance to ger partner. Just how much had he been prattling on to the trader? “Yes. It's in a repair station at the moment and still needs a few tert-UTUs before I can go and check on it. It's also nothing big and the storage room is half-filled already.”

Ooh, good, good,” the Tolemo beamed. “What I'm asking for isn't big, and the smaller the ship carrying it, the better. Your friend did tell me you are willing to turn a blind eye on transporting not quite legal goods when the price is right. Let's come inside, where we can talk about the details.”

“Bloody. Fucking. Shit.”

Zekra was looking at the wares to transport in utter disbelief. There were electric stunners as used by security forces on many planets, small projectile arms, hand-mounted plasma generators and many more weapons filling the crate. Ge faced the Tolemo without changing ger expression in the slightest.

“Excuse me, Elem, but I'm not crazy. This crate is more illegal than me taking a crap in this station's water reserves and even if it weren't, I certainly don't want to contribute to the trade of weapons, even if I could buy half the space station from the payment.”

“Do not worry, these aren’t real, just elaborate decoys,” the Tolemo said, still jolly. “Arqeez, if you may pull the trigger?”

The Idrath, who had taken out a pistol to examine it closer, did as he was told. But rather than discharging a projectile, the weapon opened up along its length. It was hollow inside, stuffed to the brim with transparent packages containing a yellow powder.

“Drug smuggling,” Zekra stated, taking the pistol-shaped container from ger companion to examine the contents closer. “But why disguised as weapons? Why not as something less suspicious?”

“Well, we have used less suspicious containers before, but our couriers tended to be sloppy when they thought the container shape alone was good enough to hide the contents. Hence we switched to weapon-shaped containers to maintain safety measures by the smugglers and since then, interceptions of the transports have gone down significantly. Drugs or weapons, the payment for the transport still stands and I'm willing to put something extra on top. As I said, this is important.”

“Fine.”

Elem's skin changed to a purplish pink and her brow tendrils went up. “Refusing to transport weapons but no discussion on drugs?”

“If someone wants to kill themselves, that's their choice and responsibility,” Zekra shrugged. “But I do take issue if someone wants to kill someone else. Where should the packages go, anyway?”

Elem handed over a piece of paper, having a planet name and address noted on it with a clean, small-lettered Unicomlang handwriting. Lyorimut-3. Being unfamiliar with the planet, Zekra looked it up on the wrist computer while continuing to listen to the Tolemo.

“It is a mining colony that focuses mostly on gemstones, to a lesser degree on ores and minerals. It's not densely populated and not close to any major flight routes or colonized planets. Accordingly, the security measures are lousy, but they are still present, so don't be lax. Aside from the payment, I'm also willing in aiding you with tools to help you getting past, if you don't already have them. Is there anything you need?”

“Yes, a part of the payment being up-front to cover ship maintenance expenses, several supply crates like that one containing food rations and a protective breathing mask fitted for Arqeez,” Zekra told while ger eyes were still on the wrist computer screen. “I see the planet's atmosphere has a pretty high carbon dioxide content. Still liveable by a variety of species, but I prefer not to take any risks and having one made for him is overdue.”

“Well, if that's all...” Elem clasped her hands together.

Fitting the mask took about one and a half hours, in which Elem made casts of Arqeez' spiracle surroundings and parts of his head, had them translated into soft, form-fitting rubber through a matter printer, then put them together with a glass screen, filter ports, straps and everything else needed for a mask that would allow both to control air intake as well as cover any exposed mucous membranes like on the eyes. She spent the time talking about her husband working on the planet the delivery was meant to go and how an infectious disease had him sick more often than working.

Arqeez was getting antsy from having to sit still during the process, but in the end, he had a mask in his possession that allowed him to leave the ship on a planet with an unbreathable atmosphere.

He was dangling the bag containing the mask in his bigger arm while the two were taking the way to the _Sciara_.

“How will the box get to the ship?” Arqeez wondered. “It’s big and if I understood it right, it should not be seen outside.”

“The contents shouldn’t,” Zekra corrected him. “The exterior is fine, there are hundreds of said crates being transported through this station every sec.” Ge pointed at a worker robot rolling by, carrying two such crates.

“That's what the other supply crates are for. That and a longer flight to our destination. Well, let's hope the Skiamus are finished.”

Some time later, they had arrived at the gate to the repair station. The _Sciara_ was neither dismantled nor being worked on, so Zekra assumed the repairs on it were finished. The crates from Elem had arrived before them and were stacked neatly next to the ship's right hind leg. Ger presence in the proximity of the ship attracted one of the Skiamus that were flying around in the repair station.

“Greetings, customer! We are happy to inform you that the requested functions of your ship have been restored.” The grinning face on the display between the three cameras turned from happy to sad. “Unfortunately, we also discovered several more compromised or failed functions we could not leave unfixed.”

“Well, thanks for the additional efforts,” Zekra replied flatly. “How much does the repair cost?”

“The expenses for the requested functions and the additional repairs are 12053 Gams.”

“Slightly overshot the estimation, it seems. Well, I hope it will be worth it and the bucket is going to fly for a long time before something breaks again,” ge commented while taking out two currency modules and handed them over to the Skiamu. As the synthetic entity floated away to the next reader, Zekra faced ger companion.

“I hate to say it, but your little wandering trip came at the right time and brought you to the right place. The upfront payment for our special delivery brought in enough money to afford all those extra repairs, I think a thank you is appropriate,” ge said with a genuine smile that had the tooth plates hidden.

“Hmm, I do have one or two ideas once we're inside the ship,” Arqeez snickered, his antennae standing straight up and quivering.

Zekra rolled ger eyes, ger tail raised in threat. “I could have expected you to bring up that shit again. Seriously, do you have to be so damn horny the whole fucking time?”

“Can I wish you were more horny instead?”

“Arq, I will test the airlock by dumping you on the next asteroid if you don't shut up about it.”

“The transaction has been completed and your expenses have been paid in full. We thank you for using our services and wish you to return soon,” the Skiamu announced as it returned. The two modules were hanging off one of its grasping limbs.

“Highly unlikely, but thanks.” Zekra took the modules. One was empty and the other half down. Ge put them away and replaced them with the remote control for the _Sciara_ 's door. “Arqeez, time to get our freight inside.”

Once the crates had been brought in and secured in the storage room department, ge signalled the repair station’s operators to get the ship out. The platform set itself into motion slowly while the inner gate opened. About fifteen minutes later, the _Sciara_ was standing outside the station, more than enough time for the two to have taken their seats. As the turbines sprung to life for the little push that was required for the ship to take off, Zekra listened to its sounds – not only was the knocking gone, but it flew quieter than even at the day ge had it acquired. If everything went right, the _Sciara_ wouldn't have to see a repair station from the inside again for quite some time.

The flight to the planet their freight was destined to go took them about four weeks. Zekra was dozing in the pilot seat, legs resting on the console and chewing on a stonewood stick when a beeping notified ger of the planet's proximity.

Ge slowed the ship down and left the cockpit. The ship would require ger attention in about half an hour again, enough time to prepare for leaving.

Arqeez was playing around with a small rubber ball in the living area. His antennae went up the moment he heard the door open.

“Are we there yet?”

“Yes, time to gear up,” Zekra replied while walking past him, to the wardrobe in the ship's right wall. Ge quickly put a tunic over the dark grey one-parter, then took out two breathing masks together with several belts, tubes and three air tanks. “You won't be prancing around naked this time.”

The Idrath set his antennae askew. “How do you put those things on?”

“I will show you. Sit down.”

Arqeez did as he was told while Zekra put the mask from the space station over his head and attached the lower portion to his spiracles. The thing felt weird, his eyes were looking through a wide visor that obstructed parts of his view and breathing through it created an odd hissing sound.

“Now spread your arms.” After the mask was attached, Zekra wrapped some of the belts around his upper body and he felt first one, then another of the tanks being attached to his back. “I figured you would need two, considering your oxygen uptake.” There was some more fumbling behind him; as Arqeez wanted to turn his head to take a look, one of the tubes was attached to the right side of his mask, then another to the left.

“Done, you can get up now. Try to get used to the gear for the time being, I will go land the ship.”

Curious on what sort of planet they were heading to that he had to wear this odd, uncomfortable contraption, Arqeez followed his companion to the cockpit. The tanks pushed against his back when he sat down.

The planet seemed to consist of a single, yellowish-brown landmass in a blue ocean. It didn’t appear extraordinary, not even close to the odd appearance of the space station and there he hadn’t needed the mask.

“What is wrong with it? Why the mask?”

“It has an atmosphere not everyone can breathe,” came the reply. “I for example definitely can’t. There is a gas in it at such a high concentration that it can make one faint in a few sec-UTUs if inhaled by a species not adapted to it. But before that happens, you will feel like you are breathing acid. But outside of that, you will probably like it. It’s a young planet, just one supercontinent with most of it being dry like a corpse in a boiler room. There is some simple multicellular life in the ocean, but the landmass is barren save for a few microorganisms. Beside the mines, there is little infrastructure, so it’s probably just land, deliver, leave.”

“Hmm.” After spending so much time in the ship, Arqeez would have liked to be a bit longer outside.

“Makes me wonder,” Zekra continued, “if intelligent life evolves there in hundreds of millions of revs, what will they say when discovering the fossilized remains of some mine worker's discarded junk in rock from a time their ancestors were just learning to swim?”

“Ship with the identification tag SC1-26B-AI25, please respond,” came from the speakers.

“Oh, fuck me sideways”, Zekra leaned back and sighed.

“This was a figure of speech, Arq,” ge quickly added when ge noticed the Idrath's bewildered and all too eager posture. Leaning forward again, ge activated the intercom.

“Ship with the identification tag SC1-26B-AI25 responding.”

“You seem to be new here. Please land on the Temple Arch station for a security check. Coordinates of the station are being sent.”

“On my way.” The connection was broken off. “Great. Bad security that isn't bad enough for us. Chances are, we are screwed.”

The box containing their special freight was in between identical-looking crates containing food rations as well as dried consumables for variety, where it had been put when it was loaded on the ship. There was not enough time to find a better hiding spot – Zekra had to steer the ship, Arqeez would likely mess it up and if they were to search for a better hiding spot after landing, it would just make them more suspicious. Their best chance was to pretend the load had been slipped into their supplies by accident, which in turn might result in a bigger investigation and would still have them detained for the time being. What was left was to expect the worst but hope for the best.

Temple Arch Station was ridiculously small. Aside from the _Sciara_ , there were just a few even smaller intra-atmospheric ships standing next to nearby buildings, and with that the station was at full capacity. The ship's door opened with a hiss and extended its ramp to the concrete ground.

“Just act like you do on other stations, be quiet and let me do the talking” Zekra said, ger voice distorted by the breathing mask covering ger face. “And if you feel dizzy or short of breath, tell me immediately. I'm not joking about that.”

At the bottom of the ramp there were three security workers already waiting for them. A Hrrau stood in the middle, the only one of the three not equipped with a breathing mask, flanked by a Tolemo with a heavy-looking bag slung around the shoulders and a Ronoumun holding a pen and pad.

“Welcome to Lyorimut-3. What is the reason for the visit?” the Hrrau asked. The Ronoumun remained behind her, tapping the pad with his pen while the Tolemo walked up to the ship, examining the exterior.

“We are visiting a friend in Hatorix Quarry 14.”

“Anyone could say that. Any friend in particular?”

“Yes, his name is Louno,” Zekra told, trying to remember as much about Elem's husband as ge could. “He's a mine worker, but doesn't handle the work very well. He was in the adjacent hospital last time I heard from him.”

The Hrrau's eyes passed over the _Sciara_. “And what sort of freight do you transport?”

“Aside from the necessities, not much. Some minor mechanical parts and dried herbs for the most part.”

“What a piece of junk.”

As Ledvejet was questioning the two-person crew outside, Hisnar was tasked to examine the ship itself. It had already looked like an exhibit in a run-down museum from the exterior. The inside wasn't any better, the smell alone made him wonder if the ship had been used as an interstellar hearse. He was surprised the chemtracer wasn't getting a short circuit from the smell, but the device meant to detect traces of a wide selection of drugs and explosives functioned normally, showing nothing of concern.

After Hisnar had walked the entire ship with the chemtracer in his hands remaining silent, it was time to check the freight. It was in the hindmost room, behind two compartments that contained respectively a toilet and an apparently nonfunctional shower that was abused as an additional storage room mostly occupied by an EVA suit. There were several compartments behind wire doors, stacked with tied-down crates.

Hisnar went to work, pushing up the door of the leftmost compartment, taking out a crate and opening it. What he saw were optical lenses, thrown into the crate without any care and seemingly taken out of discarded devices. The second crate contained copper scraps, The third one was something else: packages of dried plant material. Hisnar held the chemtracer over them, but it showed no reaction. Apparently those were just spices. The fourth crate was full of mostly unidentifiable mechanic parts, with a damaged cybernetic arm on top.

Every new crate made Hisnar doubt the chance the two were smuggling anything illegal more and more. He had been working at security stations for a good part of his life and had checked countless ships in that time, even before he had been demoted to work on this forsaken, barely-habitable dump. From what he had seen on this particular ship, everything pointed towards it being owned by small-scale scrap dealers. Drug smugglers using such a small and old ship were usually addicts themselves, but the two talking with Ledvejet outside seemed to be normal and the chemtracer would have gone haywire once Hisnar would have left the airlock. And weapon smugglers were usually parts of crime organisations that would for sure not use anything that wasn't pristine and screaming 'law-abiding citizen'. Of course, there were always new types of explosives being developed the chemtracer wouldn't react to. Some type of exotic drug meant for a species with an uncommon biochemical profile and an active group that wasn't part of the chemtracer's detection range. But these sorts of illegal goods were smuggled either by bigger, newer ships or in public shuttles, as no one developing those would give their expensive creations over to a flying scrap heap.

Having worked himself through crate after crate of junk and herb packages, Hisnar opened the last door. It was stacked with crates which, according to the tag stickers, were packed with food rations and purchased on Deurem. One of them was already open, showing the typical packages. He leaned further in, to see if there was something else besides those crates, as an infernal screech and a blue-green flash lunging at his face with wide-open jaws full of black teeth made him jump back with a surprised yelp and slam the wire door shut.

The beast continued to screech and sputter, digging its black teeth into the wire as Hisnar ran for the airlock.

“That... is the weirdest story I have ever heard about anyone coming into the possession of a ship,” the Hrrau said with tilted nose flags, “but let's assume it's true.”

“I have the papers to back it up,” Zekra said with a shrug. The Hrrau wasn't really paying attention, as she saw the Tolemo emerge from the ship and hurriedly run down the ramp.

“Have you found anything suspicious, Hisnar?”

“No, but there is an infestation in there! No clearance!”

“Was the 'infestation' of a blue-green colour, had pink jaws and six legs?” Zekra asked. “Because that would be Mourin, our karucat. She's there to prevent infestations from happening. Is she okay?”

“By the spirits, why would anyone want to keep such a beast?” the Tolemo addressed as Hisnar said, the fear still evident in his voice and colouration. “But yes, she is okay and tearing apart the storage room right now probably.”

Mourin had been in an exceptionally foul mood in the latest time and must have given the security worker quite some shock when he had intruded her territory, Zekra noted with some degree of satisfaction.

“Aside from the karucat, what have you found in there?”

“Dried plants and mechanical junk. Chemtracer remained silent everywhere. I think you can clear them, these are scrap dealers.”

“That's what they have told me, too,” the Hrrau said to her Tolemo colleague, then faced Zekra. “Well, I guess we are done. Enjoy your stay on Lyorimut-3.”

The _Sciara_ was gliding over a span of rocky desert with no sign of civilisation in sight. “Fucking waste of fuel,” Zekra grumbled, ger voice nearly drowned out by the howling of the ship's turbines.

“Hopefully there will be an opportunity to get fuel nearby, otherwise the tank is spent after the next landing. Some extra food for Mourin, too, the little bastard made us get through the security check unscathed. Still, makes me wonder what stuff we have loaded, if the chemtracer didn't detect it.”

Arqeez was in the copilot seat again, having taken the mask off and hung it around his neck. The view from the window was oddly familiar, so similar to his home planet he almost expected one of its enormous predators to saunter out from behind a rock formation.

The flight continued in silence, until buildings appeared on the horizon. There were not many, just the necessities of the mining operation itself and its workers. Zekra steered the ship to land in front of the building that was noted on Elem's instructions, but ge couldn't quite believe what sort of building it was. “A fucking hospital?”

As the two stepped out of the ship, one of the hospital workers was already running up to them. Zekra expected him to chew them out for landing on what ge assumed to be the landing strip for intra-atmospheric vessels.

Instead, the worker said: “The sky has a beautiful shade of blue today.”

Zekra's left antenna twitched. This was the code phrase for the delivery. “It will be prettier tomorrow,” ge replied in a bewildered tone.

The worker's posture changed with relief and his elation could be clearly heard through the breathing mask. “Finally! Fuck, I had thought Elem would never find someone for the bloody transport!”

“Excuse me, but seriously? Drug smuggling for a _hospital_?” The Serkanian was still baffled by this turn of events.

“Well, not quite,” the hospital worker said, stepping from one leg to another. “The delivery didn't contain drugs in the 'substances that get you high and possibly addicted' sense, but a type of experimental Torouvian flu medication that hasn't been approved yet. It was considered a failure in the beginning, but recently, new tests performed in a high-carbon dioxide atmosphere showed it to be effective against those damn spironates that thrive in this planet’s atmosphere and have become pathogenic. We can't wait the revs for the tests to be wrapped up, because the mine workers are bloody suffering now.”

“But... why? Why let it be delivered through drug smugglers if you could have flown it in through a regular medicine transport? It would have been quicker, too!”

“Maybe it would, but this hospital is not approved for research functions. If we were to transport substances unapproved as medicine, everyone involved in the transport would face punishment and the hospital would risk closing down. Detainment for the contribution in the administration of unapproved substances to patients is up to five quints, but smuggling drugs onto Tolemut-controlled planets and bases? Fucking three quints at most, and the security checks are a joke compared to official medical traffic. Hence we had to rely on illegal ways to have this medication brought here. It’s not always easy, because hardly anyone would bother with the long flight to Lyorimut-3, but it’s the best we could do.”

“That’s quite the revelation,” Zekra commented. Hospitals having to cooperate with drug smugglers... Ge wondered what killed more, the diseases or bureaucracy. “Arq, time to get the crate out.”

A few minutes later, they returned with the crate, while the hospital worker called for a few colleagues that brought a barrow with them. The crate was exchanged for several full red lines on their currency modules, but unfortunately, there was no possibility to refuel. The hospital's fuel stations were only suitable for intra-atmospheric vessels and the next station for spaceships would require another flight that would empty the _Sciara_ 's tanks, which still left the question of the type of fuel being used for the shuttles being compatible with the _Sciara_ unanswered. Hence, the ship left the atmosphere, where it could switch to the antigravity drive that didn't use turbine fuel.

“Finally, the mask is off.” Despite the ship having left Lyorimut-3 behind and it being highly unlikely any of Zekra's mad flying was to happen in the near future, Arqeez remained in the copilot seat.

“I will see if the next planet has a breathable atmosphere.”

“What planet do you aim for?”

“Haven't looked for one yet. The flight to the next one will take some time, especially now we are low on fuel and have to skimp on the maneuvering.” Zekra undid the safety belts and got out of the pilot seat. “Since you are so comfortable here, will you stay here for a few secs and alert me if something happens? There are a few favours I have to return.”

Ge went straight from the cockpit to the storage room in the back. “Hello, Mourin.”

There was a special crate among the scrap department that contained meat conserves made from Fenaharian cell cultures specifically for such occasions. Ge took one out and opened it, spreading the foul smell of its contents in the small room. A quiet hissing and chittering told of the other living being in the room noticing the smell as well.

The karucat stood on the highest crate in the food department but wound itself out of the first gap when the door was raised. Mourin scuttled from side to side, looking up expectantly. As she was handed the opened conserve, she started to gobble down its contents, dropping half of it on the floor.

Zekra crouched down to watch the karucat eat with mild amusement. The mess she left was no issue – she would lick it up to the last bit when the conserve was cleaned out and even if she didn't, it was a fair price for her to allow the _Sciara_ to pass through the security check despite their rotten luck.


	3. How we met

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An episode from the past, as the title implies. Spaceships are big, complex rocks that can fly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adding the violence warning because of lethal chiropractice and Zekra's mad flying messily claiming its first victim.

Life was a battle. Food and water were hard to obtain, usually it involved having to kill something to eat it, then fighting off scavengers that wanted a piece of it, or fighting off those that saw a patch of plants or a waterhole as their property. Finding shelter usually involved either fighting out the inhabitant or having to defend it against the next suitor in line. Arqeez was a born fighter. Throughout his short life he had fought many battles and won.  
But sometimes, you were facing an enemy you could not win against.  
Steps thumped over parched ground, raising clouds of dust and accompanied by the sound of laboured breath. He wasn't able to run for much longer, while his pursuer had all time in the world to follow him, each step of its long four legs being worth five of his strides.

  
Arqeez could only curse his luck. He had left his territory not long ago to search for a mate for the first time, only to run into a shanturruk before he could even cross the Grey Rift. The wide valley with its steep edges was to his right, now just minimizing his chance to escape. There were a lot of bizarre rock formations close to the edge, both good opportunities to hide from the large armoured predator and to run into a dead end. But unlike Arqeez, the shanturruk was very familiar with the rock formations of its territory.  
It happened like Arqeez had feared – he ran into a dead end. He had spotted an overhanging ledge and in the hope of breaking the line of sight for a few moments to win a few metres, he had run past it to the right. What the overhanging ledge had hid from his own eyes was the edge of the Grey Rift having taken a bite out of the ground, leaving him in a kettle of steep rock going up to the left and steep rock going down to the right.  
The shanturruk strode into the kettle and kept to the right of it, to prevent its prey from preferring to jump to its death rather than meeting its end between claws and mandibles. It had all time in the world and it knew it. Paying no heed to the yapping of some small scavengers below or the quiet thundering noise above, it closed in.  
Arqeez was at his end. The run had exhausted him so much he was neither able to climb up or down fast enough to get out of reach, let alone fight the shanturruk off. Not that he was able to fight a shanturruk off when well-rested, for that matter; the only way to deal with the large predator was to avoid it at all costs, or lead it into the proximity of a Jurakkar or any other, even bigger predator. He exhaled. All that was left to him was to hope the shanturruk finished it quickly. Arqeez closed his eyes, braced for the fatal bite. Maybe his many siblings would have better luck at living.  
A thundering sound coming closer made him open his eyes again. The shanturruk was filling out the view of his frontal pair of eyes completely, his right side eye registered movement in the distance. The next moment, a loud, splattering crash was heard and the movement was registered by his left side eye, while his frontal eyes still saw the shanturruk, which was now lacking its head. Orange blood poured from the neck stump, drenching the ground and splatters of its destroyed head were raining down. The beheaded body made a few unsure steps forwards, then collapsed, still gushing blood into an expanding pond.  
Arqeez hurried to the edge of the Grey Rift, where the moving object had vanished into.

  
Shanturruks weren't the biggest predators of the desert, but none was able to casually rip its head to little pieces just moving by. And none of them was capable of _flying_. He had to know what sort of beast was able to do this. Scarfing down some pieces of the shanturruk's crushed head as a refreshment, Arqeez began to climb down the edge of the Grey Rift.  
  
“Fuck!”  
Zekra was looking at the orange streaks creeping up the window in annoyance. This was just the fly on top of the mountain of shit ge had to deal with recently. Having acquired an own ship by a chance in a million had opened ger so many new possibilities to earn money, but the ship being quite a strain on ger finances mixed with ger lack in experience had made ger life a much more dangerous one. This was why ge had stupidly agreed to fly a delivery from Dauban Port to Kanaash without even asking questions of what the delivery constituted of or checking the freight gerself. It had turned out the delivery consisted of several loads of stolen weapons and ammunition, and ger being part of the delivery, as the target to practice said weapons on. To ger luck, ge had brought quite a bit of distance between gerself and Serkanis by that point, with the result that many people weren't exactly familiar with what a Serkanian was, leading to them being rather surprised when the weapons suddenly developed a life of their own and flew out of their boxes. It had been enough distraction to make it to ger ship alive and flee, but not enough to do so without a scuffle – or without making it out unscathed.  
So far, the whole thing had resulted in a few minor injuries, but also some external damages on the _Sciara_ , which involved a small hull breach and wing damage. The leaks had been taped shut as soon as they were noticed, but the sealing was far from perfect and sooner or later, the air reserve tanks would run out of content. The damage forced ger to land on the closest planet with a breathable atmosphere, which had to be Goronoi-2 out of all places. No native sapient lifeforms, no bases. Technically, it wasn't even allowed to land on it, as it had been assigned as a Category 0 planet. Usually, this category was to prevent unique ecosystems from being contaminated with extraplanetary life or to prevent primitive cultures from being assimilated, but in this case, the categorisation was earned by it having a native fauna so deadly it was a necessary measure to prevent any would-be visitors from being killed. The wing damage didn't alleviate that problem in the slightest, as it made steering the ship down a challenge while trying to prevent hitting one of the many rock formations.  
It was going fine at first, but then some local wanker had to amble into the _Sciara_ 's trajectory and splatter its unidentifiable body parts all over the ship's front side. At least the chasm's bottom behind was relatively plain with its only notable landmark being the bed of a dried-out river in the middle, which would make it possible to land the ship without damaging it much further. Flying in a wide circle to accommodate for the wing damage, Zekra let the ship extend the landing wheels in preparation for a non-vertical landing, something ge usually never did. The _Sciara_ touched down, rolled several hundred bumpy metres and came to a standstill in the dust.

  
Ge watched the orange drops run down the windows again after the air had stopped blowing them upward for a few moments. _Access the damage of the ship first_ , ge thought. _Repair what has to be repaired to make the ship spaceworthy again, let the air reserve tanks refill, then look for a nearby planet or base further away from Kanaash to have the rest of the ship fixed_.  
The collision with the local creature had probably left no damage on the ship. It was robust Ulushkurrian work, able to withstand much worse. This wasn't true for gerself, though, and the blood on the ship might make it only worse by attracting something big and unpleasant with its smell. Either way, ge had to get outside and deal with the fact of having landed on a Category 0 planet accessed as such for its exceedingly dangerous wildlife.  
  
The walls of the Grey Rift might be steep and held the danger of ripping rocks loose, but it was nothing Arqeez' six limbs, each of which were equipped with four strong and reasonably dextrous fingers ending in claws, couldn't deal with. The only annoying part was that he couldn't really see where he was going, so he had to stop regularly and look down. Below, a pack of lenns awaited him, fighting over the few chunks of shanturruk head that had made it to the bottom of the valley. Arqeez chased them off and took one of the chunks the scavengers had left behind for himself.  
There was little cover at the bottom of the Grey Rift. Arqeez lifted his head high up and let his antennae tremble in the wind to check it for the presence of any predators, but he smelled nothing familiar. Instead, the air was heavy with odd scents that he assumed to come from the strange flying predator he was curious about. Staying close to the rift's edge, he followed the wind.  
The sun had moved a good deal over the horizon when Arqeez finally saw it. It was a strange being. It was not as big as he had expected, it didn't appear to be much bigger than the shanturruk it had so casually beheaded. Near-white, with a black underbelly, the face still streaked with the shanturruk's blood. As he crept closer, using every single bit of the sparse cover he could find, he could make out more details. It seemed to have a pair of large, reflective compound eyes at its front, three short, strange legs and for its size, the wings were ridiculously small. They were held out in a spread position, as if unable to fold. He also spotted a green decoy pattern superficially resembling a receptive female on the back of the head. He wasn't sure if it was meant to attract males of his species, considering its colour, the female being oddly thin save for the postabdomen and the head looking very different. One thing was for sure, he had never seen such a beast before.  
It was strange in general that the creature hadn't moved a single bit for the entire time Arqeez had approached it. As he did spot movement from a corner of his eyes, he dove behind a thick-stemmed plant covered in white wax strands without much thinking. He looked at it again from in between the plant's stems, when he saw the source of the movement. It was an odd little creature perched atop the large flier's back, digging around in a bloodless wound.

  
Arqeez couldn't believe what he saw. Of course the big flier didn't move. It was dead. He wasn't sure what had killed it so quickly after its surprising display of power, but he suspected it having been taken down by the creature on its back. He squinted his eyes to have a better look at it. For such a fearsome predator, it was surprisingly unimpressive. It was small, slender, seemed to lack any visible weaponry and its mostly white colouration might match the colour of the flier's back it was perched on, but it stood out in the dark grey desert around. It didn't even seem to have a skeleton, its skin appearing soft and boneless like that of a turannau larva.  
It looked around, making Arqeez duck deeper behind the plant. If this creature was so small yet so dangerous, it meant it was highly venomous, probably even able to hurl its toxins over a distance. He observed how it stowed away some of the flier's strange entrails, slid down its side and landed on the ground, uninjured despite the reasonable height it had dropped from. Like him, it used its pair of hind legs to walk on while the upper body was kept upright. Unlike him and pretty much every other creature in the world, it seemed to have only four limbs, though.  
It looked around again, then faced the dead flier. Arqeez remained motionless to prevent his detection, but it seemed like the creature was interested in the dead flier and nothing else. Then something unexpected happened: the flier awoke to life, opening a body orifice in its side and sliding down a structure to... help the creature move up to the opening? It vanished in the shadows inside the flier and everything was still again. Arqeez waited for several long moments to see anything else happen, then the creature emerged again, looking slightly different now. After it had stepped off the extension under the orifice, it gestured towards it, on which the orifice retracted the extension and closed up. The creature walked off following the riverbed, away from Arqeez' hiding place. He let the strange creature bring a bit of distance between the flier and itself before he got up to give the flier a closer look. There was absolutely no motion coming from it, no tensing of muscles, no shifts in posture, not even breathing. It was absolutely still, the only sign of life being the heat it gave off.  
Arqeez repeated the gesture he saw the creature do a few times, but it didn't make it open the orifice in the side for him. Maybe he had to do it closer to the flier, but he didn't trust the strange being enough for that.  
He looked into the direction the smaller creature had walked off into. Was it a predator that had severely incapacitated the flier or were those two actually in a cooperative relationship? With curiosity having gotten a hold of him, Arqeez followed the footprints in the dust. He was pretty sure the creature was highly dangerous, but he needed to know how it worked.  
  
From what Zekra had seen, the damages on the _Sciara_ would prove a challenge to fix. While there seemed to be not much of internal damage, the hull breach could probably be fixed with some spare metal being welded over the holes after the frayed corners had been sawed off and the wing damage was restricted to parts of the aileron missing that could also be remedied by sawing off edges and welding on a temporary replacement. But all of that would require water, to keep the saws and welding tools from overheating, which would put more than just a strain on the ship's own water reserves. And of course, ge had to land on a part as dry as a corpse in a boiler room, probably thousands of kilometres away from the next ocean...

  
At least, ge suspected there would be any water nearby, considering the dried-up riverbed. But would ge encounter it rather upstream or downstream? And which direction was ge even walking into? Zekra examined the surroundings with telekinetic perception. It told ger nothing about the dry river's flowing direction, but it could tell ger about the presence of groundwater - and of nearby creatures. The one that had left parts of it splattered on the _Sciara_ 's front had been a prime example, likely it had not been the only inhabitant of this area.  
Ge perceived neither groundwater nor any creatures of note nearby. There was something tearing apart a prey animal just at the border of perception, but it seemed to be small and too busy to be dangerous at the moment, and the faint howling heard in the distance was too far away. Walking on it was then. Still, ge kept eyeing the wall of the valley suspiciously. There were a lot of cracks and larger openings in it, a perfect place for unpleasantries to hide, but the other option was to get out of the shade. With no knowledge of the nearest water source, overheating would probably be the bigger danger.  
Movement in the corner of the eyes made ger freeze in place and turn ger head towards its source. A native creature was walking along the riverbed, head raised and antennae quivering in the hot air. It was slightly smaller than gerself, but Zekra didn't want to take any chances. Ge telekinetically picked up a rock the size of ger head, then hurled it away from ger direction in a curve, letting it touch ground about 20 metres away from ger.

  
As soon as the rock bounced off the ground in front, the creature's head began to follow its movements. It looked on for several seconds after the rock had left Zekra's reach, then it slowly followed, half-ducked and seemingly more curious than aggressive. Either way, the creature was now certainly off Zekra's back and ge could continue in ger search for a water source for now.  
Ahead, ge spotted a bigger plant, several metres high and mushroom-shaped. Underneath and around it, smaller branched structures grew. It did look promising – if the plants on Goronoi-2 worked like the plants on Serkanis, the larger accumulation of them likely pointed towards water being present. It would probably also mean ge had to dig several metres into the ground to reach it, but it was better than nothing. But first, ge would have to get near enough to give the plant group a thorough telekinetic examination, to see if it wasn't occupied by any larger predators or aggressive herbivores. As ge was about to crouch down, ge heard a weak thundering noise above. Looking up, Zekra saw a gleaming object move over the sky, trailing a weak streak of condensate behind it.  
“Shit!”  
The skoonfuckers didn't only have a spaceship at their disposal, but were actually crazy enough to follow ger.  
  
Arqeez hadn't moved away from the odd flier that far before he saw another flier pass over his head. It was big, loud and shining like a mirage, so very different from the previous one yet unmistakably related. He had crouched down to lower the chance of detection, but the thing didn't pay him any heed. Instead, he saw it turn and settle down close to the first flier.  
Its thundering roar died down and it was as still and motionless as the other, until an orifice opened in its side. Arqeez crouched down in a pit, from where he could see several more strange creatures step out of the flier's orifice.

  
None of them looked like the other. The first one was two-legged and not dissimilar to the creature from the first flier, its skin hanging off in dark wrinkly flaps and bulges, and a pair of unmoving eyes scanning its surroundings on a long neck. The second was bigger, pale and reminded Arqeez of an oversized ilur tuber that had grown legs and a face. The third appeared more familiar, a lanky quadruped clad in a shining green skeleton.  
After getting out, the three kept loitering around the fliers without any care, even touching the one that had arrived first. The wind carried the sounds they made, which put a perplexed look onto Arqeez' face. While he couldn't understand them, they did sound a lot like speech. Did it mean those were actually like him? Conspecifics with a strange appearance? He looked at the fliers again. With the way the first creature had acted around it and with how the three arrivals were acting around them right now, he began to figure the fliers to be harmless, only reacting to the commands of their partners. Whenever the fliers had done anything, it was always after one of those weird gestures the smaller creatures did. He had never seen such a relationship before. Usually, the animals of Idrath were more busy killing each other rather than cooperating. Whatever these strange teams of fliers and smaller creatures were, Arqeez found them exceedingly fascinating.  
  
“Well, looks like we are a bit late to the party,” Urun commented while Gandash examined the Serkanian's ship.  
Following it wasn't that hard. But that it had landed on a Cat 0 planet was something they didn't quite expect, even if it was fully logical – it was the closest planet available that had a breathable atmosphere. With that idiot Lamu having shot a few holes into it and still letting it escape into the void of space rather than forcing it to land without damaging it, the ship couldn't have gone anywhere else.  
The Serkanian was nowhere near. Gandash had told them that it was a Serkanian who had brought their weapon delivery from Dauban Port all the while chewing Urun and the others at the reception out for their limited knowledge. A species from the outer regions of the Eleyano quadrant that were polymorphic despite not being eusocial and had telekinetic abilities. The one they were dealing with was a g-type, like the majority of Serkanians that could be found outside their home planet. The strongest telekinetic abilities out of the three morphotypes but also the smallest, without much to offer in the physical department.  
“Can we just sabotage the ship, leave and be done?” Kituk suggested. “Let the native fauna take care of our problem, I don't want to be here any prim longer than I should.”  
“Coward,” Urun sneered. “You know what we were told. Kill the witness before ge can snitch on us, secure the ship and bring it back. Those things don't grow in the ground, you know. And to secure it, we would rather have the remote for it instead of breaking in by force, which would take longer than waiting for its owner either way.”

  
Kituk looked into the distance, clutching their weapon like it was their greatest treasure. “I prefer not to be eaten by some sort of monstrosity that lives here, you know.”  
“You think ge's hiding inside?” Gandash asked, the translator drowning out his native language.  
“Oh, shut up, please. The last thing we need is a ship siege in a deadly desert.” Urun scratched his neck. “I don't think so, though. If I were inside that ship, I would have fucked off the moment I had the _Cutter_ on the radar. Or at least I would have tried. So better keep your eyes peeled until-”  
The sharp sound of a firearm going off interrupted him, cutting into the relative silence of the chasm and being reflected by its walls several times. Briefly after, a pained whimper came from behind a shredded bush.  
“What the _fuck_ , Kituk!” Urun rounded on them. “Keep yourself together!”  
The green Omunu visibly shook, their weapon still pointed at the bush. “Haven’t you heard it? Some _thing_ was hiding in there, did you want it to sneak up on us and eat us alive?”  
“You would shit yourself if you would encounter your own grandmother in an alley, Kituk. I don’t know why we even bothered taking us with you.”  
“Well,” the offended Omunu rose to a more upright position, “Neither of you can fly the _Cutter_ as I do. If it weren’t for me, you would still be up there,” they pointed at the sky, “and not here. And later, you would be probably dead, eaten by that beast over there,” they pointed at the bush, “while the Serkanian takes the _Cutter_ , leaves your sorry remains here and not one quart later law enforcement is all over our little enterprise!”  
“Stop inflating your throat sacs,” Gandash growled in response, completely ignoring that Kituk didn’t have those anatomical features. “I can’t hear anything with your shouting droning out every-”  
He was interrupted, but not by Kituk’s weapon. It was the sound of rock falling against rock, not sounding like natural rockfall at all. All three faced into the sound’s direction, tense with the expectation of seeing a native beast bigger and more dangerous than whatever Kituk had shot.  
They were caught completely off-guard as an unseen force yanked their weapons upwards. The firearms were torn out of Kituk’s and Urun’s hands, one flung into the distance, the other landing with a clatter on the _Cutter_ ’s roof. Only Gandash had a grip on it strong enough not to lose it, but the surprise had him distracted long enough for the Serkanian they had been looking for to enter the scene by flinging gerself at the Pomunian’s back, shove ger hands into his spiracles and yank the plasma generator out of his hands the moment he loosened his grip on it. It was thrown against the ground hard enough to break several pieces off.  
Urun was furious. They were all looking out, yet somehow the bastard managed to sneak up on them. While he ran to Gandash's aid, Kituk sprinted off into the other direction. “I will get my rifle first!”  
The Omunu had clearly seen where their firearm had gone. Unlike Gandash, who just had to grab the unyieldy and delicate plasma generator, Kituk had chosen the lighter and more robust projectile weapon. Of course, it couldn't blow off the larger part of a Horunnek like a plasma generator could, but they were dealing with a Serkanian here and not with one of the large, armoured heavy-worlders. They could see it gleam in the sunlight, just a few metres ahead, right past a depression in the ground.  
Kituk was so focussed on their goal that when something launched itself at them from the depression they sprinted past, it was too late. They couldn't clearly make out what it was, just that it was the same dark grey colouration as the desert and that it had damn powerful limbs that were closing around their legs with an iron grip. The monstrosity used their own momentum to spin them around and slammed them into the bottom of the depression. In their stunned state, Kituk could make out four fierce eye spots and the same number of equally fierce real eyes above them, staring down like an apparition straight from the underworld.

  
Then one of the monster's limbs closed around their snout and bent their head back so far the spine gave out and the world went dark.  
  
The green runner was as easy to kill as it had looked, there was barely any effort in breaking its neck and twisting its head off. Arqeez paid little attention to the small corpse lying next to him in the depression and seeping its weird, red blood into the dust. After the nosy nuisance had been dealt with, he could focus on the commotion between the two still motionless fliers.  
The pale creature had returned. As focussed as Arqeez was on observing the three others, he had noticed the fourth's presence as much as they had. But all of a sudden it was there, jumping at the much larger tuber-shaped creature. He found this action rather surprising, considering the creature was outmatched both in size and in number, yet seemingly fuelled by desperation, it was able to hold its own against its adversaries for the moment. Right now, it was engaged with the flab-skinned creature, moving so fast Arqeez couldn't always follow what happened. It fought so completely different from what he was used to see, as if it was mimicking the movements of its opponent to yank on its limbs and make it lose its footing. One such approach proved to be successful and the flab-skinned creature stumbled for several steps until it fell onto all fours. A perfect opportunity to take it out, but the pale creature ignored it, going for the tuber-shaped creature again. Rapidly changing its direction, it jumped into the tuber's side and went for its head. Arqeez presumed something important was hit, considering how the tuber bellowed and stumbled sideways, then finally collapsed.  
The next moment the flab-skinned one attacked the pale creature, but was dodged and the swipe hit nothing but thin air. Both were shouting unintelligible words at each other while they continued fighting, the larger and stronger-looking flab-skin being barely able to do anything meaningful against the pale one. It struck against the smaller opponent with a leg, but was effortlessly avoided before it had the pale creature's long, slender postabdomen around the leg and was being pulled forward. It stumbled and was hit in the stomach a moment later, then responded by grabbing at its enemy. It was successful, at least until the pale creature kicked one of its leg joints that caused it to let go. The flab-skinned creature growled loud enough for Arqeez to hear, then drew a shiny object from one of its folds. It charged its opponent, who easily dodged to a side, something the flab-skin seemed to have anticipated, as it followed the movement. Still, the pale-skinned creature turned out to be too fast and ducked under the object-wielding arm, using its postabdomen again to snatch the arm and pull it after it while jolting backwards, sending the flab-skin to the ground again. The pale creature turned to its downed opponent and was about to attack it, as the tuber, which Arqeez had assumed to be out for good, suddenly lurched forward from its grounded position, knocked into the pale creature and got a hold of it in a way that made it cry out in pain.  
  
Too focussed on fighting Urun, Zekra had paid no attention the larger Pomunian, a mistake which came to bite ger in the arse. Just as ger presumed last opponent had been sent to the ground, a large arm had wrapped around ger lower chest. Ge would have not much trouble freeing gerself from the hold, but a hand closing itself around ger sensitive antennae quickly put an end to it. The agony from the powerful grip was enough to let ger barely notice the foot slamming down on ger tail, which made it pretty much impossible to escape.  
Urun got up and a foul sneer spread over his face and jaw fins. “Now you're singing a song I'm liking much more, Serkanian.”  
All he got as an answer was strained breathing; the Pomunian didn't think of slackening his grip on Zekra's antennae.  
“For all the inconveniences you had given us, I think it's only fair we will get a bit of recompensation,” Urun continued, playing with his short but nasty-looking knife. “You know, the original plan was to aim those weapons you have so courteously delivered at your vital areas, we aren't monsters after all, but now I would say we deserve to take our time with you. Gandash, I don't care what you want to do, but leave the teeth intact. I'm going to keep those.”

  
“Whatever. I'm more interested in paying back for the bruised _eye_ ,” the Pomunian replied, emphasizing the last word by yanking ger antennae.  
Urun looked to the side. “Kituk seems to take forever to find their stupid rifle. Well, more for us I _wha_ -!”  
Caught up in the haze of pain, Zekra didn't quite register what happened the next few moments. Urun whirled around, something dark grey and enormous that came from behind took him off his feet. The grip of the Pomunian on Zekra's antennae briefly tightened, but then ge was released, dropped to the ground like something that had lost its relevance.  
The reason for ger sudden freedom was holding Urun in a painful-looking grip by the arms from behind. As fast as the Pomunian referred to as Gandash was running towards their new enemy, he wasn't able to make it in time – the attacker, who seemed to be a large, apparently native exoskeletal, was unlike its prey and didn't take its time with him. Instead, it kicked Urun hard enough into the back while still holding him by the arms that Zekra could hear several bones break, among them one of the arms that suddenly got a good deal longer. The gurgling shriek it got as an answer was cut short by the smaller secondary arms closing around his long neck and yanking it backwards, again accompanied by the sound of bone breaking.  
The dying weapon smuggler was then dropped in favour of the exoskeletal defending itself from the Pomunian. There was a brief flurry of too many arms to track striking at and blocking each other before the Pomunian managed to restrain several of the attacker's arms. The exoskeletal freed itself by lunging forwards and biting the Pomunian into the neck. The bony plates protruding from the upper jaw tore through the skin on the throat sacs and left a bleeding, gaping wound. The Pomunian bellowed in pain and pressed one hand onto the wound, then lifted a rock from the ground to go at the exoskeletal.  
He aimed at the head, but the strike was blocked by one of the bigger arms, which then got a hold of the Pomunian's rock-wielding arm. The grip was hard enough for the claws on its fingers to bury into the flesh and for the rock to be dropped. While the Pomunian was too distracted by the pain, the exoskeletal slashed with the other larger arm over his face. Claws tore through skin and his right eye like they were nothing, then the exoskeletal bit into the Pomunian's neck again. This time it was better aimed, past the throat sacs and through an artery.

  
The exoskeletal toppled the lethally wounded Pomunian to the ground and while he was whimpering and gushing blood into the grey dust, the native attacker continued to stomp on his neck until he was silent and unmoving.  
Then the exoskeletal turned its blood-covered face to Zekra and came closer.  
  
What he had done was surprising to Arqeez himself. Usually, he didn't care for the fights happening between the various animals that inhabited Idrath, including fights that involved his own species. Usually, he either watched and picked up its leftovers or he used the distraction to get away before ending up as the dessert. Whatever had happened between these weird creatures was not of his concern. Yet, he didn't like how it had turned out between them at all.  
If his assumptions about the large fliers was true, the pale creature had saved his life from the shanturruk. If it hadn't told the flier to tear off the shanturruk's head, there would have been barely a few bones and bloodstains left of him, drying in the desert sun. Every moment he continued to live from there was owed to the pale creature and its flier.  
Up close, he could see some scratches with dried up dark blue blood on them and the wide, violet eyes staring back at him. All of a sudden, the creature lunged to the side, ran up the ground-touching part on the second flier that led to its open orifice, but rather than getting inside, it leapt at the wing, pulled itself up and vanished from sight on the flier's back. One moment later, it appeared in Arqeez' view again, the odd object one of the other creatures had been carrying around in its hands and pointed at him.

  
As unimpressive as those things looked, Arqeez had seen what it did to the lenn resting in the shadow of a bush.  
“I don't want to do anything to you!” Despite him having returned the favour of saving the pale creature from its attackers, he hadn't quite considered how scary he would be to it. He extended his arms with the claws turned backwards, to appear as nonthreatening as possible.  
There was a brief shift in the pale creature's expression, but the tool remained in its hands and its jagged, blood-coloured teeth remained exposed. It shouted something in return. It was clearly some sort of speech, but it didn't sound like anything Arqeez was familiar with.  
“I do not understand! Could you try to...”  
The creature replied something, sounding a little bit calmer. Arqeez interpreted it as him being allowed to come closer, but it took him barely a step for the creature to tense up and shout at him again.  
“Really, I don't want to do anything to you!” The pale creature paced on the flier's back, eyes and contraption still directed at him. Arqeez sat down on the ground. “From what part of Idrath do you come from? I have never seen anything alike you or those fliers.”  
The pale creature moved from the flier's back onto its wing. Still eyeing Arqeez warily, it grabbed the tool with its long postabdomen, then let itself hang off the wing by its arms before jumping down onto the orifice protrusion. The tool went pack into its hands and it slowly moved down. Arqeez stayed where he sat, following the pale creature's movements. He was unsure of what it wanted to do, most likely it was getting into a position to escape. One thing was for sure, the contraption it held would be used if he started to move around too much.  
Moving sideways, the creature stayed transfixed on him. The escape route was clear behind it, but it didn't seem to care for it. Curious, Arqeez' eyes followed its path, until he realized the pale creature's goal wasn't an opening to flee, but the corpse of the tuber creature. It had put up an entertaining fight, but its blood had tasted so incredibly awful Arqeez assumed it was inedible. The pale creature wasn't out for a meal, though; instead, it used a foot to remove a dark piece off its arm, then pulled another, equally dark but smaller piece off its head. Picking up both objects with a hand, it now began to move closer to Arqeez, still at the same slow and wary pace as it had neared the corpse. It spoke again, sounding more or less calm this time, but a note of fear seemed to still swing within it. It picked one of the two dark objects from its hand with the tip of its postabdomen, then stretched it out to him saying again something he couldn't understand.  
“I still don't know what you want to tell me,” Arqeez said quietly. The pale creature moved closer, the odd object nearing Arqeez. He looked at it. While it was absolutely unclear to him what it was, it didn't appear to be something dangerous, unlike the object in the creature's hands. He remained where he was, unmoving to not provoke the pale creature into using it. It said something, then the dark object touched his left upper arm and as if it was alive, wrapped itself around and attached itself to his limb. A sort of parasite? Arqeez looked at the object. With the pale creature so close, he didn't want to move and scratch it off. “What is this? Why did you put it on me?”

  
The creature took a few steps backwards, then spoke again. “I still do not understand what you want to tell me,” he replied. “I mean, I'm sure you are talking, it sounds like such, but none of it makes any sense to me.”  
The creature looked at the other dark object it took off the dead tuber, then all of a sudden, its face expression changed. It spoke to him again, with a completely new tone suddenly devoid of all hostility or fear.  
Arqeez sighed. “I wish I could understand what you say...”  
All of a sudden, a third voice entered their dialogue – Arqeez' head jerked to the left, into the direction it came from, but his eyes ended up on the dark object attached to his arm. “What did happen?” And yes, there was a voice coming from the object just after he finished his question, a deep voice but speaking unmistakably in the same way as the pale creature did. “Why is this thing talking?”  
The creature said something and curiously, the other dark object it held in the tip of its outstretched postabdomen now began to speak, too.  
“It's a translation device. It allows us to communicate,” the thing said. Arqeez put his antennae askew. His eyes wandered between the pale creature's face and the speaking thing it held.  
“They just repeat what we say, in our respective languages. They don't talk by themselves,” the thing continued, speaking over the pale creature's words.  
“That means, you understand what I say now?” The thing on Arqeez' arm spoke as a reaction to him as well. It was a weird way to communicate.  
“Yes.”  
“I don't want to do anything to you,” Arqeez repeated what he had said at first. “You do not have to be afraid of me.” He looked at the contraption in the pale creature's hand. As it seemed to understand what he was implying, it lowered the object, pointing it to the ground.  
“Why did you attack the others?”  
“I wanted to save your life from them,” Arqeez stated proudly, then put his antennae askew again. “They did want to kill you, didn't they?”  
The pale creature blinked a few times, its antennae twitching. “But why did you do it?”  
“You have saved my life before.” His eyes wandered to the long-dry orange blood streaks on the flier's face. “You told your friend there to bite off the head of a large predator that wanted to eat me.”  
The pale creature looked at the flier's face itself, then made a weird, repeating sound. “That is not a friend, it's a spaceship. I didn't tell it to bite your predator's head off, it simply got into the ship's trajectory and collided with it.”  
Arqeez tilted his head. “What is a spaceship?”  
“A flying vessel that is able to travel between planets.”  
“I do not understand,” he said, looking more confused than before.  
The pale creature looked here and there, before it answered and the dark object translated it. “See this rock? I can pick it up and use it to break open a nut or to bash in a skull. Use it as a tool. This electric stunner here,” it dangled the object in its hands before itself, “is also a tool. More complex than a rock, it is made out of different parts that are made out of different materials and allows to do more with it than just breaking things. And a spaceship,” it gesticulated at the flier, “is also a tool. Again, more complex than this stunner, and able to do more than it, or a rock. But in the end, all of them are tools.”  
Arqeez looked between the rock, the object the creature called a stunner and the spaceship. “So, a spaceship is a big, complex rock that can fly?”  
It made the repetitive sound again. “In a way, yes. Anyway, the ship is damaged and I need to repair it before it can fly again. Thank you for saving me, but I think you have a tribe you would want to return to? A family, a hive?”  
  
Out of all the things Zekra had expected to encounter on Goronoi-2, an intelligent native species hadn't been among them. And yet there was one, a large, vertically oriented exoskeletal with four clawed arms and feathered antennae, apparently unknown to the outside world. The species seemed to be culturally very primitive, as this one individual told he was wandering around alone, without any peers to return to. He seemed to have no interest in leaving, watching Zekra getting into the weapon dealers' ship, rummaging through its contents and retrieving a more modern repair kit, one that didn't require obnoxious amounts of water to cool itself. Despite not understanding anything about the ships or what Zekra was doing to them, he was very curious, watching ger work and asking questions during the moments the saw wasn't screeching through mangled metal or the welding torch wasn't hissing and sputtering sparks. By then, the receiver part of the Pomunian's translator was attached to his head, close to the antennae where his ears were located.  
The individual had introduced himself as Arqeez, and apparently Goronoi-2 was referred to as “Idrath” by its inhabitants. The large animal the ship had collided with was called a shanturruk, a large and dangerous predator impossible to fight off and yet, it wasn't even the biggest the desert had to offer. All the more a reason to finish the repairs and leave as quickly as possible. The commotion from the ships landing and the fight in between them wasn't to go unnoticed; from the _Sciara_ 's roof Zekra could see more of the four-legged creatures as big as gerself sneak around and look at the scene. It was just a question of time until something bigger would come and investigate. At least Arqeez seemed to keep the smaller creatures at bay with his presence alone.

  
“I think I'm done.” Zekra turned the welding torch off and looked at ger work. They were solid welds, but nothing more than a temporary fix meant to last only until the next proper repair station could be reached. All there was left to do was to drag over some supplies from the weapon traders' ship and dispose of the corpses of its owners, to minimize the risk of the planet being contaminated with foreign microorganisms. Too bad ge couldn't take their ship; not only was it optimized for the control by the head tentacles of an Omunu, it was also most likely acquired in an illegal way, which would lead to it being confiscated sooner or later. A third thing to consider were tracking devices installed by the weapon traders, so it had to remain where it was.  
Ge slipped off the _Sciara_ 's roof, telekinetically slowing ger fall to a manageable speed. Arqeez was standing close. He was large, probably one half taller than ger and would still have towered over the largest r-type Serkanian, along with the vast majority of other vertically oriented intelligent species. The cut he had acquired on the left side of his head from the Civakko's knife had stopped seeping blood by now, as orange as the dried stains on the _Sciara_ 's nose.   
“Arqeez, it had been nice to meet you and once again thanks for saving me, but it's time for me to go. It's better for you to leave now, the ship will make quite a lot of wind when it starts flying, it will raise a lot of dust.”  
Arqeez looked at the ship instead. “I want to go with you.”

  
Zekra stared at the native for several moments just to process what he said. On one hand, this would be utterly crazy. Zekra preferred to travel by gerself, the laws of several planets would consider this an abduction, he might be carrying pathogens dangerous to ger or anyone else they would meet along, ge didn't even know anything about his biochemical profile and if the food rations loaded into the _Sciara_ 's storage rooms would be edible to him. On the other hand... Ge had seen what he had done with the weapon dealers and how quickly it happened. He was big, the claws, armour, fierce eyes and bright-orange chest spots were fear-inspiring. The _Sciara_ was a gnat-class ship and could easily hold another passenger, even one as large as him. With this native being close, future employers would think twice about sending ger into another such suicide mission. Besides, ge could always get rid of him on the next planet or base if ge were to become weary of his presence.  
“But we're even. You have already returned the favour of me taking out your predator. And weren't you on the search for a mate until the run-in with it?”  
Arqeez looked at the horizon for several heartbeats, then back to Zekra. “I don't want to any more. All those things you told me, about other worlds being up there... I want to see them. And without you, I would be not here, anyway.”  
Zekra looked at ger unexpected conversational partner for a few more moments. Those were surprisingly relatable wishes. What lengths would ge have gone if this were Serkanis and Arqeez the one with his own ship?  
“Fine then, but don't complain when you get homesick. You will also have to do what I say once we're inside the ship. Let's carry some supplies from their ship to mine, burn the corpses and then we are ready to go.”  
Arqeez nodded and followed ger to the weapon dealers' ship. Zekra sincerely hoped this wasn't a decision ge would come to regret later.


	4. Stingers hidden behind silk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Next round, which takes place in a city suspended on giant trees, where Arqeez puts on a fancy costume and Zekra undresses for money.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Viiri' means any type of non-alcoholic beverage made by cooking, fermenting or infusing herbs, algae or microbial cultures, with grey viiri meaning it's a type that has mild, harmless effects on the body and/or mind, like relaxing or stimulating (black viiri contains the mixtures with stronger effects, like hallucinogens. Effects differ depending on biochemical profile). It's comparable to tea.

The alga farm hissed and gurgled as the dark brown-violet water in one of its glass panels was evacuated. The sounds continued for several more seconds, then a hatch opened and spat a slimy block of a brown-violet, almost black colour onto a waiting plate, while the empty panel refilled with clear water again. The cells that had remained in the residue on the glass were enough to restart the population.  
Zekra took the plate and sauntered off in the direction of the _Sciara_ ’s cockpit. A few minutes later Arqeez joined ger, settling down in the copilot seat. He looked at ger in distaste, a glance ge answered with pointed indifference while continuing to eat the alga slab.  
“As if your choices of food are any better, Arqeez.”  
Zekra couldn’t understand how nearly everyone ge knew seemed to have a distaste for the algae; because nearly every inhabitable planet had those microscopic photoautotrophs in many species, there was an enormous selection of alga farm cultures to pick from even for the more exotic biochemical profiles, resulting in them having any flavour imaginable and with the right preparation even the texture could be changed into pretty much anything, which was much better than having the same food rations over and over again. From ger perspective, even the wet, uncooked slab wasn’t as weird as the stuff ge had seen Arqeez eat, which had included packaging material, discarded food in various stages of decay and unidentified growths he had found on a wall.  
“I’m more worried about how you steer the ship.”

  
Since Zekra’s hands were occupied with the plate and its contents, the _Sciara_ ’s control module was held with ger feet. “I have started and landed the ship several times like that already, including times you were on it.”  
Arqeez didn't remember such instances; it probably had happened while he had preferred to sit the starting and landing out in the ship's main room rather than the cockpit, which made those earlier times retroactively even scarier for him.  
“Besides, we don’t have to get down _that_ far.”  
  
And indeed, they didn’t even have to break through the dense white cloud cover of the planet the _Sciara_ was aiming for. Instead, they landed on one of the mountain peaks sticking out.  
The air was frigid and it was windy, but Arqeez was happy to be outside again. The flights between planets were too long for him to spend in the limited confines of their ship most of the time, hence he chose to stay outside under the pretense to stay close to the ship while Zekra was dealing with the harbour office. He didn't mind; the harbour was large, consisting of several connected plateaus for the ships. It was rather boring in design, but there were enough different ships parking, landing and leaving for the Idrath to look at while his companion was inside the office. And of course, the appealing nose art adorning the _Sciara_ ’s front.  
“Number 45, room 27,” came from the speakers.  
Looking for the mentioned number on the plaques above the doors, Zekra walked down the hallway before entering the corresponding room. The first thing ge noticed there was the odd contraption hanging from the ceiling, an array of amorphous, concave shapes fashioned from a white material with some minor metal parts attached to them. When ge saw the individual waiting at the desk being a Teeieen, ge figured the object to be a ranthoul – a piece of art fashioned by and for echolocating species.  
“Greetings, I want to register my ship for a several-day stay, get two tickets for the cableway and to request a refuel.”  
The individual at the desk tilted their bulbous, beaked head, tiny eyes blinking.  
“We need to know for what purpose you request your stay, the type of your ship and the freight it has loaded,” came a voice from above. Zekra spotted an individual of an unknown species sitting atop the ranthoul. Their eyes were as small as the Teeieen's, but they had three large ears resembling satellite dishes surrounding their head. The living translator stretched their dark, membranous wings before they continued. “As for the refuel, we need to know the type of fuel your ship uses.”

  
“The purpose is a flying pause. The ship is a gnat-class and its current freight aside from the necessities are minor mechanical parts and dyed thread.”  
“Excuse me to interrupt, but which platform was your ship parked on?” the winged individual asked.  
“D-East, why?”  
“Just to make sure everything is in order. As you know, the platforms are sorted after the type of ship to be parked on. Now, do you plan to load the ship with freight during your stay or unload your current freight?”  
  
“Took longer than expected, but we're good to go.”  
Arqeez turned around to see his companion head towards him, two badges dangling off ger hand on looped strings. Zekra handed one of those things to him and while he examined it, ge put the string around ger neck, then slipped the badge into the neck opening of the green tunic.  
“Keep this thing on you at all times.”  
“What is this?”  
“Cableway radio tickets. They're not quite cheap and the only thing that connects this mountain to Canray. You don't want to stay up here all the time, after all.”  
Arqeez silently agreed; while the chilly air was refreshing after the staleness of the ship, it did begin to feel unpleasant and he had become a bit light-headed by now.  
Several flights of stairs and elevators later, they were at a platform where one side was occupied by wagons hanging off thick metal ropes suspended by a complicated-looking system of support beams. They were sorted by size, the biggest two wagons in the middle, the rest getting smaller the further from the middle they got. Compared to the relatively empty platform the _Sciara_ had been landed on, this platform was teeming with a wild mixture of various shapes and sizes chatting, checking their luggage, eating or just entering the waiting wagons. Zekra headed for one of the wagons close to the middle. They had to pass the closest door, since it was currently occupied by a Molurian pushing a mobile aquarium containing a Leyrr who was swimming in agitated circles, but due to his electric pulses apparently being transferred directly to the Molurian's headset, their surroundings were none the wiser about the reason for the slender aquatic's agitation.

  
On the inside, there were several vertical poles to tie luggage to while the space at the walls was separated into compartments by dividers with a cushioned ground. Zekra picked a free compartment and gestured to Arqeez to get in first, then entered it gerself. They had chosen a compartment opposite of the platform, the large window showing nothing but the blue sky above and the roiling sea of clouds below.  
The wagon slowly filled up with passengers, until the doors closed and the magnetic attachments that kept the wagons fixed on the platform loosened. The wagons suddenly sagged down several decimetres, eliciting surprised sounds from a number of passengers not familiar with this method of transportation. A low hum started and the wagons set themselves into motion, away from the mountaintop and in a gentle dip downwards.  
“So… what are your plans for this place?” Arqeez asked, after neither the sight out of the window nor the passengers walking around inside the wagon provided anything of interest.  
“The usual. I don’t think the Skiamus had looked at it back then in the space station, but I have noticed the antigravity drive is losing efficiency, it’s currently at 85% of its old capacity.”  
“What does it mean?”  
Zekra leant back against the divider. “That the flights become longer than they could be. The worst part is that the antigravity drive is probably the most expensive part of the ship to fix, especially considering how fucking _old_ it is. Selling the freight won't get in much, so we will have to stay here a bit longer to scratch the funds together, and that still leaves the question open if we can find a suitable repair station around here.”  
Since Zekra seemed to have finished and just kept leaning against the divider with closed eyes, folded arms and coiled up tail while the windows still showed nothing but white due to the wagons being inside the cloud layer, Arqeez focussed on the wagon’s interior. There was a large, hairy endoskeletal quietly honking at their two children that incessantly slapped their four tentacles against the window and a small scrawny individual clinging to the luggage twice their size tied to one of the poles in the middle while giving everyone wary glances. With his right side eye Arqeez noticed a colourful but mostly yellow exoskeletal staring at him with their large round eyes.

  
As he turned his head towards them, the eyes jerked downwards and the exoskeletal pretended like they had been looking at the pad in their hands the whole time. When Arqeez turned his head away and cast them a side glance, the large eyes stayed on the pad.  
Slowly, the cloud layer frayed up to reveal an ocean of green. Even with the sun being hidden above the clouds, the colours were vibrant, speckling the world below in a multitude of shades, interspersed with minor accents of white, pink or yellow. Some of the accents were in motion, turning out to be flying creatures. It was a strange sight; usually Arqeez expected to see block-like buildings, streets below and flying vehicles above, but this place seemed to be strangely devoid of all of this. The only technological object in sight was the cableway they were inside as well as the construction it hung off, its support beams passing past the window as quick blurs in regular intervals.  
“Zekra, what place is this?”  
His companion opened ger eyes and stood up, to get a better view of the outside. “Those are the surroundings of Canray, the Treetop City.”  
“Why was the city built on treetops?” Arqeez asked with his antennae askew, having a hard time to imagining buildings on top of trees.  
“An experiment. To see if it’s possible to construct a modern settlement in a complex ecosystem without damaging it in the process. Leyrr-Rhat was one of the best places to set the experiment up, as the native intelligent species here are both aquatics while the plants of its tropical landmasses are big enough to easily hold buildings.”  
“Big enough to... how big are the trees?”  
“You will see soon enough for yourself.”  
  
As the cableway continued on its way to its unseen destination, Arqeez realized the cloud cover wasn't as low-hanging as he had assumed at first. The flying animals he had thought to be no longer than his arm revealed themselves to be nearly as big as himself when a group of three passed by close to their window. And that was if he didn't take their large wings into account. The trees just continued to grow, until he had no doubt they would be able to hold a building. Soon enough, he could catch glimpses of civilisation in the green, in the shape of solar panels or small vertical wind generators mounted on poles rising them over the canopy.  
Eventually, the cableway decelerated and docked to a platform with a jolt in the shadow of an emergent rising high above the thick layer of trees.

  
As they stepped out, the heavy, humid air met them like a wall, a complete opposite from the cold, thin air atop the mountain. It was full of minuscule, flying or floating animals, warmer than anticipated and Zekra found it a bit hard to breathe. This high density and the high percentage of oxygen were the reason why the harbour was so far away from the city, since the danger of a ship either setting its surroundings on fire or igniting itself was too high. All bigger electronic devices down here had to be constructed in a way that prevented sparks, which also severely limited what could be taken down from the mountaintop ports, but luckily, the wrist computer strapped to ger arm was not of an issue.  
The two travellers pushed themselves through the masses of people leaving and boarding the cableway until they were off the platform and about to enter one of the many bridges that functioned as the roads in this suspended city. Arqeez looked around uneasily. It was impossible to see the ground from their position, everything being obscured by dense layers of green. The emergent with its numerous support roots a good deal of Canray’s upper layers was attached to rose at least a hundred metres over their heads, giving them a suggestion how much of the titanic tree was hidden below. Everything was in motion, both from people walking on the narrow, light bridges and from the tree itself swaying in the wind. Normally, he wasn’t bothered by heights, but the swaying made him feel all too unsure about his footing.  
“Can’t we go downwards a bit?” the Idrath asked.  
“Depends where the pubs are,” Zekra replied while scanning through the locality entries on ger wrist computer. “Seems like you’re lucky. There are a few up on top, but the bigger, cheaper ones are below the canopy, and that’s where the hoarding lists are the longest.”  
Still, despite Zekra saying they would have to get closer to the ground, their winding paths over bridges and sometimes even large branches of the emergent itself didn’t bring them any lower that much. The branches at least didn’t sway as much as the bridges and often enough, there were platforms attached to them which didn’t give Arqeez the feeling of falling to his death as soon as he stumbled, slipped or even a stronger breeze made him falter in his step. Trying to distract himself from the void below, he tried to focus on the surroundings at his eye level.  
As it was usual for any settlement, the nearby presence of a space harbour attracted traders like a corpse attracted scavengers. There was a small-scale trader here and there, but they also walked past a full, noisy platform having nothing but stands and it was clear that some of the buildings suspended on cables or standing on smaller platforms attached to the branches were offering yet more wares. One larger platform seemed to be for nothing else than to hold a number of large, blue and green winged animals with large crests on their heads, with an individual holding one of them by tethers around its neck and offering rides with a loud, booming voice.  
“One Shirr ride just for 24 Gams! See Canray from a perspective you have never seen before! A guide flyer will accompany you just for 6 Gams additionally!”  
“There it is.” Zekra's voice was almost drowned out by the loud vendor.  
Arqeez took his eyes off the strange animals and looked at where his companion was standing. While it was of a different design than what he was used to see, he could recognize the contraption made of cables, rolls and metal bars as a lift. Grateful, he stepped inside and after Zekra had pushed a few buttons on the lift's control panel, it began to sink down. Arqeez held onto the bars with three of his arms, gripping them hard enough to make the metal creak and keeping one arm free to chase the small flying animals away from his face. Zekra on the other hand appeared to be more peaceful than usual, completely unfazed by the enormous distance between ger and the ground.  
“Don't you find it weird to be so high up, with no solid ground under your feet and everything swaying?”  
“No,” was the answer. “The air and colours might not match, but it feels like home.”  
The lift carried them through a barely-visible opening in the canopy, past a dense layer of twigs and leaves and into the open space below. There were more branches and support roots than at the emergent, mixed with colossal trunks where everything merged, smaller trees with dark, wide leaves and twiners connecting everything like a web. The air seemed even denser there, with swarms of smaller flying animals shooting between the branches and lianas, with wide-open mouths to filter out the ubiquitous tiny floaters. Most of Canray had been built below the canopy, where more opportunities to suspend buildings on cables or to erect platforms were present.

  
The swaying elevator stopped a good distance below the roof of leaves, at a hanging platform not different from the one they had departed from above. When they left the platform onto a bridge, Arqeez always kept a hand on the railing, as being able to see the ground below didn't help with his uneasiness at all. At least, it was significantly less windy below the canopy.  
To his luck, the ground and the empty space between it and himself vanished from Arqeez' sight soon enough, when Zekra walked into a suspended building that despite its weird appearance was still recognizable as a pub. It didn't matter that it had an ovoid shape or hung in the middle of an enormous forest, the wild mixture of different people sitting around and enjoying their drinks while a bartender and maybe a number of assistants making sure their guests had a constant supply was the same on every planet they had visited so far.  
Zekra headed towards the counter and shortly after, both were sitting at a table, Arqeez with a bucket-sized keg of viiri to calm his nerves and Zekra with the hoarding tab, scrolling through the job offers.  
“Food delivery with aerial species preferred, tourist guides, twiner removement, tourist guides, hotel waiters, science assistants for collecting glaesoptere samples, again tourist guides... looks like there are barely any offers suitable for us, and that is without excluding those where the payment is shit.” Ge put the tab onto the table and leant back, hanging ger arms over the backrest.  
“Maybe we could do it like on previous planets and seek out a fighting ring,” Arqeez suggested. “That has worked well so far.”  
“That would require us actually finding one, and it seems they are either hidden really well or non-existent. Long story short, it's either check the other pubs' hoardings if they have better offers or engage the poorly-paid crap, most of which will be wasted on ship parking fees anyway.”  
“I gather you are looking for work?”  
The high-pitched, melodious voice came from a small, mostly yellow exoskeletal with large, round eyes and a tassled robe, who had managed to walk up to the table unnoticed. Arqeez gave the individual a wary glance; it seemed this was the very same individual as the one who had stared at him in the cableway.

  
“You're right. And I gather you are having something to offer?” Zekra replied.  
The individual cast a side glance at the Serkanian, before focussing on Arqeez again.  
“Well yes, my large friend. Perfect for a traveller like you and well-paid. But I will have to admit it is a little bit finicky,” the individual said, bobbing their arms.  
“Finicky, in what way?” Zekra asked.  
The individual cast another side glance, a hint of hostility showing in his eyes, before addressing Arqeez again. “So, what do you think of it?”  
“Talk to Zekra about it,” Arqeez muttered, then took a swig from his keg. “Ge's the one organizing the jobs.”  
“No, no, this isn't a job for an _endoskeletal_ , I fear. This is something that requires culture, finesse and intelligence.”  
Zekra snorted in amusement. “Then I don't think Arqeez is the one who can help you.”  
The individual cast yet another side glance, the hostility obvious this time. “Arqeez, yes? I do not think you are in the best company, Arqeez.”  
The Idrath put the keg on the table and growled, a low, rumbling sound, but the big-eyed individual continued talking.  
“I could introduce you to better company, one that will value you and your skills, no need to associate yourself with a being whose decency is as hidden as its bones. As I said, the job would be perfect for you, and-”  
The individual's prattling was interrupted by Arqeez slamming his hand onto the table hard enough to let the keg jump up.  
“Stop talking! Stop talking and if you insult Zekie again I will shove your job between your cerci so far you can taste it!” the Idrath roared at the individual, who seemed to shrink down to half his size. The pub went silent and multiple eyes of varying anatomy turned their way. Zekra stared at ger companion in bewilderment, who growled at the individual again after his outburst. “Zekie? Seriously?”  
“I- I didn't mean to insult you, most revered Arqeez. I really don't know where I left my manners today. It's just that the job offer is tied to a few problems that have me a bit wired and it's indeed a bit finicky in regards to endoskeletals.”  
“Finicky in regards to endoskeletals or in regards to your view of them?” Zekra asked, leaning forwards. There were many types of people a pain in the rear to deal with, and categorists were among the top of them. Thinking that the type of the skeleton or the orientation of the body's main axis was some sort of uniting feature among completely unrelated species that somehow determined their dispositions, skills and general worth.  
“The former, actually. You see, this afternoon begins the Annual Meeting of the Exoskeletal's Club in this city, and as you probably know, there's only exoskeletals allowed in it. And I am running out of time to find a suitable exoskeletal to hire to pay it a visit.”  
“Why not going there yourself?” Zekra asked, pointedly looking at the individual. His robe might be covering most of the body and the outer skin layer was rather thick, but not thick enough to hide the bony tubes and plates underneath.  
“Oh, I would if I could, but aside from me having been banned from the Club years ago, I do not have the required skills to do what I want to do.”  
“What sort of skills do you need?”  
“Oh well...” the individual looked around hastily. While there had been a lot of eyes on them right after Arqeez' outburst, everyone was back to each other or their kegs again by now. “Did I say it was a finicky job? I would prefer to explain it somewhere out of the presence of inquiring ears.”  
They let Arqeez drain the keg before putting the hoarding tab back, paying and leaving. As they went through the pub's door, the big-eyed individual ahead, Zekra pulled ger companion to the side.  
“Don't call me like that ever again. I mean it.”  
  
The little exoskeletal, who introduced himself as Ak-Shmay, led them to a building in the outer reaches of Canray, which they reached with a smaller cableway for the most part. It was a dressmaker's shop, containing an odd amalgamation of the most modern shape scanners and design computers with the most basic shears, mannequins and pins. Since the shop was closed this day, they had the whole building for themselves.  
“No inquiring ears here, I guess. Do tell about the job,” Zekra said while sitting down on one of the random chairs.

  
“So, where should I start,” Ak-Shmay said, scratching the scraggly hair on his head. It begins with the Baroness of Ulumoura, who embarrassed the Tuvinian Duke during a conference. To keep it short, the Tuvinian Duke never forgave her, and had been trying to pay back since then, offering incredible favours to anyone managing to aid him in his goals. I have been his personal tailor before a stupid mistake made by my apprentice led to me falling out of favour and having been essentially banished from his court, and with me aiding him in his revenge plans, I would be able to resume my old position. Now, being the hard-working Akimian I am, I have found out a few rather interesting things about the way the Baroness runs her plantations on Ekremey, and that she is also scheduled as one of the guests in the Exoskeletal's Club meeting today. I do know she entrusts all data to nobody but herself, meaning the logs of interest would be either on her today, or at least in her hotel room.”  
“So, you are seeking someone to steal them for you,” Zekra stated.  
“No, no, nothing that drastic,” Ak-Shmay called out, waving his hands. “Just a copy of the data without anyone noticing, nothing more.”  
“Still, you thought Arqeez was the right one among us for the job?” Zekra replied, trying to hide a snicker. “He is good at intimidating or beating someone to an inch of their life, but certainly nothing that requires being unseen.”  
“Well, as I explained, the task is of a nature that requires an exoskeletal to do it and there weren't any other exoskeletals looking for that kind of job around here. I was glad to have found one with him at all.”  
“Still, how did you think he would copy the data?”  
The Akimian scratched his chin while his eyes travelled over the ceiling. “Hmm, well, the Baroness is a rather curious person, always eager to meet new, extraordinary people, and I would say Arqeez is very extraordinary. Have him put in a fine dress created by me, let him play a nobleman from a faraway planet, strike up a conversation, engage her with alcoholic beverages or grey viiri depending on his choice, ask her the right questions to have her reveal the location of the data, then maybe have her invite him to her hotel room for some private time...”  
“Sounds like this is the perfect job for you after all, Arq,” Zekra said in the Idrath's direction, who was busy looking at the stacks of cloth rolls and only listening to the conversation with one ear.  
“But that leaves us still with the problem that he is neither a good conversationalist nor exactly skilled in the use of technology.”  
“As hard as I find it to believe, I guess I have do believe it,” Ak-Shmay sighed. “If we could smuggle in some sort of headset to communicate to him what to do... but I have seen enough movies where such a thing was done and almost always it had been found out. What a disaster, such a good chance to clear my name having to collapse so close to its goal, and I have collected quite the sizeable pile of Gams as a reward.”  
Considering the Akimian and his scheme were their best guess in earning enough to repair the antigravity drive, Zekra was thinking as hard as him about how to solve this problem. Ger thoughts went from the ship itself to where it was parked, to the receptionist and to the cableway platform they had left the mountaintop from, slowly coalescing into an idea.  
“Let's assume I'm an exoskeletal noble,” ge started, “either from a culture that still values its traditions a lot or one that was technologically uplifted just recently from a feudal society level. I'm too proud to speak such a commoners' language as Unicomlang myself and have a distaste for universal translators for one reason or another, so I have a slave or a servant accompanying me as my living translator. Now, let's assume this translator is an endoskeletal.”  
Ak-Shmay's eyes widened when he realized where Zekra was getting. “Would the Exoskeletal's Club allow entry to such a person?”  
“I think... yes. I don’t recall anyone from the Club having such an asset, considering barely any of them wants to have to do anything with endoskeletals in general outside of the bare necessities, but thinking about it, yes, sure it would. What else would show them the superiority of exoskeletals better than a bonehider under the heels of one of their own, doing their bidding? This is it!” Ak-Shmay jumped up from his seat, barely containing himself from jumping around like a giddy child. Then he stopped, all of a sudden. “But how exactly will this bring you closer to the data?”  
“Let me explain.”  
  
“I can’t really work with this!”  
Zekra was standing on the scanner platform in nothing but ger grey one-parter, arms outstretched and blue lines of light travelling over ger body. Ak-Shmay was in front of a screen nearby, still complaining.

  
“What’s the matter?”  
“I’m not used to design dresses for endoskeletals. No visible joint structure to guide me, no segmentation to work into the ornamentation… everything is so featureless!”  
“You can always look up the appearance of a Serkanian’s skeleton, if it helps. I can sketch you one, too.”  
“Uh, no,” Ak-Shmay said with a shudder. “I don’t want to have nightmares tonight.”  
“Then pretend me to be an exoskeletal. It shouldn’t be that hard. Or use Arqeez as a template, if I’m supposed to play his servant, maybe he wants me to have an appearance similar to his own kind,” Zekra suggested and stepped off the platform, since the scan was finished.  
“Hmm, that might be an idea. The Prince of Idrath would make his bonehider servant more presentable by giving it a simulation of a proper exoskeleton through clothes, which would almost make it look like a proper person!” Then the Akimian’s enthusiasm dropped as quickly as it came. “On the other hand, some Club members could consider it a mockery of their selves, feel offended by such a sight… Hmm, my personal suggestion would be rags and a collar around the neck with a chain.”  
“No. The Prince of Idrath comes from a civilized society, the individual who takes the role of his mouth should look presentable. Or do you think anyone from the club would want to talk to anyone in rags and chains?” Zekra walked over to Ak-Shmay’s screen to take a look at the digital mannequin he was quickly sketching lines over, meant to be seams.  
“That is convincing. I would surely not want to talk to anyone in that.” He looked over to Arqeez, who was sitting on the sturdiest piece of furniture in the dressmaker’s shop, but still managed to bend it. The Idrath glared back at the tailor.  
“Any wishes regarding the design that come into play for your plan?” Ak-Shmay asked, briefly stopping with marking down the seams.  
“Have it consist of as few pieces as possible, so I can take it off and put it on quickly.”  
“Reasonable.”  
It took him surprisingly little time from sketching the seams to have a virtual model of the outfit ready and for the sewing robot to begin turning the model from polygons into cloth. Then it was Arqeez' turn to stand on the scanner platform. Despite him being bigger, having more limbs and the design for him being more elaborate, his outfit was finished even faster, designed by a competent mind and experienced hands. After Ak-Shmay had added some minor details with a sewing machine, the final step of their new outfits' creation came, which was trying them on.  
As requested, Zekra's dress was consisting of one piece, with hidden eyelets keeping it in shape and allowing it to be quickly opened. It was also covering most of ger, sewn in very unsubtle patterns of brightly-coloured cloth resembling Arqeez' exoskeleton. A hood covered most of ger head with a veil inside to pull over ger face, the sleeves were wide and loose, probably to hide ger features further.  
Ge felt like a Limarian bawd in it.  
Arqeez' new clothing was notably more complicated, requiring Ak-Shmay's aid to put it on. The exiled noble dressmaker didn't mind this task, he was rather ecstatic about doing it, admiring both his work and its wearer.

  
“...the trouser legs suiting your joints and proportions perfectly, my friend. I wish I had enough time to add layered fringes to the jacket, but this combination of shimmering Alak'hey silk and the wooly texture of Ryet fiber give such a wonderful effect when moving under the light. Hmm, but this bag needs to go.”  
A few hand movements from Ak-Shmay removed the bag from Arqeez' postabdomen, before it was covered by an extension of the jacket.  
Arqeez eyed the bag, which was carelessly slung over the corner of a table. “There are important things in it.”  
“Indeed,” Zekra added. “It's for his personal documents. At least have him put them into a pocket or something.”  
“A prince shouldn't bother himself with carrying anything,” the Akimian told in a tone like he was talking to an obtuse child. “he has a servant to carry his burdens, after all. Accordingly, there are no pockets on his outfit, they would only ruin its appearance. But there are several on yours.”  
Zekra gave Ak-Shmay a morose look, before opening Arqeez' bag and stowing its contents away in a pocket in ger one-parter rather than the costume. Ge shook ger head; it seemed like it was easier to understand the physics of antigravity drives than to make any sense of the rules and manners of royalty.  
“It would have been nice to have some more terts to polish your appearance, but it is definitely passable now. I look at you and can definitely tell you are royalty, my friend,” Ak-Shmay said with pride after stepping back and admiring Arqeez' costume from afar.  
“It pinches,” was the only thing the Idrath had to say about it.  
“Oh, that will go away if you keep it on long enough, I assure you,” the Akimian replied with a wave of his hands. Then he turned to Zekra.  
“Now since the dresses are finished, is there anything else you need for your plan?”  
“Obviously, a good map of the building the meeting takes place in and explanations of what being where. The second thing I need is a container of about five litres of water and bag of about a kilogram of fresh local mud. Or brown alga paste that doesn't smell, but the mud is preferred.”  
Ak-Shmay's already big eyes grew even bigger. “ _Mud_? What do you want to do with such a disgusting substance?”  
“It's a crucial part of the plan, that's all you need to know. Have it delivered to a hidden part of the Club's building, somewhere it can't be seen being deposited. But for the exact location, I will need your help. You did tell you had been a member of the Club, I assume you know your way around the place.”  
  
After having been given a thorough briefing on the Cinnabar Hall's layouts, where the Exoskeletal's Club had their meeting, Zekra and Arqeez spent the remaining hours before its start rehearsing their roles, while Ak-Shmay made fake documents for them. Although he assured them the meeting was open to anyone, he wanted to make sure his plan worked.  
Then it was time for them to go.  
“Remember, Arqeez, you can only speak your native language there,” Zekra told him quietly while they were sitting in the cableway bringing them towards the middle of Canray. “No Unicomlang, no matter what the others tell you.”  
“What if they ask me something I have no answer for?”  
“You can tell them anything you want. Comment the weather, tell them about your last dinner, make some suggestions about what you want to do with them or their spouses in a quiet room. Either way,” Zekra said, “be mindful of how I position my antennae. Remember, if the one with the blue ring is raised over the other, you keep talking. If I lower it, finish your sentence. Do not just stop when I lower it, even in a foreign language one can hear it out when you stop in the middle.”  
“And what if someone can understand it or has a translator device?” Arqeez felt rather nervous about what they were planning to do, everything about it sounded so finicky and delicate.  
“Unlikely to be a problem. According to the translator you had worn, your language has an odd similarity to ancient Nexario, but unless there are any scholars who have studied this language present, no one could tell. And considering this is basically a meeting of the biggest categorists of this quadrant and probably beyond, I don't expect many scholars there, just lots of rich individuals with their heads so far up their own arses they can examine the contents of their gizzards. As for electronic translators, as long as no one of them bothers to switch them from translating Unicomlang to analysis mode in your presence, they won't know any better, either.”  
The rest of the ride was spent in tense silence, while the wagon slowly filled up between stations the closer they got to the city's centre. From the place they exited it took them a walk over several bridges and platforms and an elevator ride further down to reach their destination. Arqeez noticed a hissing sound coming from above, apparently without any source to pinpoint. As he saw large drops of water coming down on occasion, he figured the sound coming from rain hitting the canopy above. It made him rather grateful for the city having been built into a forest for the first time he set foot into it.  
Two taps of Zekra's tail against his leg caught his attention. “No Unicomlang from here any more,” ge told him quietly.  
Ahead, he could see the large hall they were heading for, right in front of an enormous trunk of a tree. A variety of people were on the platform space in front of it, talking among each other or just shuffling around, all of them being other exoskeletals. Most of them wore dresses of garish colouration like himself, few preferred wearing little or having clothing of subdued colouration.

  
One exception were the four big individuals next to the building’s gate, standing there almost motionlessly in pitch-black robes with polished metal armour pieces. Their keen eyes wandered from here to there, but they fixated on the only endoskeletal present soon enough, especially since said endoskeletal was heading straight for the gate they were tasked to guard.  
“What are you doing here?” the left one asked harshly. All four guards were Eruk-Shoi, enormous exoskeletals that had their heads at Zekra’s height, but thanks to being horizontally oriented, they were significantly more massive than even Arqeez.  
The Serkanian’s right antenna flicked upward, an indication for Arqeez to speak.  
“Rokk shu arrtan hsit karr heit. Sakkralam khrui kalain reku.”  
“Arthaleis, the Prince of Idrath, wishes to attend the meeting of the Exoskeletal’s Club taking place today,” Zekra ‘translated’ and bowed.  
The Eruk-Shoi eyed the Serkanian. “And who are you, _endoskeletal_?”  
“Just the humble translator of the Prince of Idrath.”  
The guard grumbled something, then rose one of their front arms to their spiracles on the underside of the neck and another to the shoulder of the front leg. “We have a new visitor here, who brought an endoskeletal as a living translator,” they spoke into the communication device strapped to their wrist, elegantly hidden under an embroidered gauntlet. After a short talk with their superior, the Eruk-Shoi snorted, handed out two tags of different colour to wear around their necks and told them to get in, signalling the two guards behind to push open the gates. “But keep watch on your servant.” Then they pointed a clawed finger at Zekra. “And you, _behave_. Wear that tag so it can be seen by everyone, because I will throw you out personally if you act up.”  
As Ak-shmay had said, it was indeed surprisingly easy to get in, the guards didn’t even bother checking their documents to confirm name or status.  
The gates opened and revealed a kaleidoscope of sensations. There was a large hall hung with paper lanterns that shone their colourful light onto a plethora of people mingling with each other, attending the stands bending under various dishes or lounging on furniture. There were large alcoves in regular intervals, where performers could entertain the attendants undisturbed. To the left a group of three musicians were playing on bulbous string instruments, to the right a puppet theatre piece was performed. The middle of the hall was dominated by the tree trunk, which rather than being behind the building, went straight through it. The rough bark was painted with red, orange and blue colour and garlands had been wrapped around it.

  
The entry of an endoskeletal didn’t go unnoticed. Head fins were folded, spines raised and steps taken back by several individuals that were close. A Qono’en in an elegant dress made out of a variety of plastinated leaves in different colours eyed the intruder with open hostility, before her eyes travelled up and met the piecing gaze of the Idrath behind.  
“An interesting choice of companion you have here,” she said while shuffling back to keep as much distance to his ‘translator’ as possible. As agreed, he replied to her in his native language, which made her tilt her hands in curiosity at first, then narrow her eyes when she got the ‘translation’.  
“The great Prince Arthaleis says that this lesser creature is here to translate his words into a commoner’s language,” Zekra said, lowering ger head.  
“Putting them into the place they belong, I see,” the Qono’en replied, still eyeing the Serkanian servant with disgust. “Still, I can’t imagine to have a bonehider this close to me, even as a servant. You know what they say about them, their honesty is as invisible as their support.”  
Arqeez growled something in reply, which Zekra figured to be a rather rude retort. “Prince Arthaleis says that despite what is said about them, it was his choice to have an endoskeletal serve him and that he does not appreciate criticisms in his choice.”  
The Qono’en just nodded at Arqeez in respect and went away, vanishing between the other attendants of the Club’s meeting. The Idrath instead headed for the banquet, not bothering with the stares of the others directed at his choice of a companion.  
The tables were overloaded with prepared dishes, each having an unique appearance. Some were simple, resembling the food rations they had on the ship, some others were elaborate, edible art pieces. Arqeez curiously eyed the green spirals slathered in a pink sauce. Zekra pulled back ger left sleeve and tapped on the screen of the wrist computer hidden underneath, looking at the little tags next to the various dishes, one after another.  
“I don't recommend this one, your highness. The amount of aromatic hydrocarbons is too high to be considered safe for your consumption,” ge pointed at the spirals. “And I do not advise to try this one, it would be outright toxic for you. But these, they are fine, even if not very nutritious. I would personally recommend those sticks, they are closest to your noble biochemical profile.”  
Arqeez looked at the pointed-out dish, a sort of baked stick-shaped objects that were arranged in a circle around a carved fruit. He took several of them and put them on an empty plate from a nearby stack.  
“Please let me seek out an empty seat for you, your highness,” Zekra told him with an implied bow. Arqeez followed ger through the lot of attendants, chewing on one of the sticks.  
It was weird to see Zekra act like this, as if ge had become a completely different person once in the proximity of the Club's building. Sure, ge was acting the role of a servant, but hearing ger talk like that, submissive and without using any swear words, it just sounded _wrong_. Ge presented him an empty couch, low and wide to accommodate the many different builds and sizes of the meeting's participants. While Arqeez sat down and focussed on his food, Zekra remained standing, playing the attentive servant while actually scanning the present individuals for anyone who would match the Baroness' description.

  
It was surprising how many members this club had attracted and the diversity of species being present. There was a family group of Omunu all chatting with an Ofarkan at once, a tarted up male Yohanro under the watchful eyes of two warrior caste conspecifics shaking his iridescent wings in applause to the puppet theatre, a young Qono’en sniffing various dishes with their extended proboscis, having a hard time deciding what to try first. Then ge spotted a Nerikei among the masses, a member of the species the Baroness belonged to. A closer look showed that the individual was a male, being rather small and having a bright red head ridge.  
“Dear individuals and hivemembers!” came from the speakers. “Your host Korol Shon Whei welcomes you to the twenty-first Meeting of the Exoskeletal’s Club, a place where you can be among and enjoy the presence of your fellows without having to suffer the sight of bonehiders!” An attendant nearby snorted in disgusted amusement.  
“As you were informed, this is a meeting with public eating and non-public mating. Accordingly, the food stands will be removed after 25.00 local time and the members of cultures that prohibit public eating will join us then. Restrooms for relaxing from the masses or any private activity are in the left wing, toilets and baths in the right wing. If you have any further questions, ask our organizers, they are recognizable by the four blue ribbons around their left frontmost limbs. Enjoy your stay!”  
The attendants, who had quieted down during the announcement, showed their approval after it was finished and quickly resumed their conversations.  
Zekra wondered if the Baroness was among those mentioned cultures that treat public eating as a disgusting offence, not dissimilar to passing waste. Ak-Shmay didn't mention much about her aside from personality traits and her tastes in attire, as apparently she had the habit of trying out the newest trends of body modification on Nerikotan and tried out living by new philosophies just as often. Even her name wasn't spared from her flighty personality.  
Arqeez had finished his food, handed the empty plate to Zekra and said something in his native language. Ge stared at the plate for a few moments before taking it. Arqeez was playing his role better than expected, committed to using his native language in any situation, even if it meant talking to his servant without any listeners close by and ger being unsure whether he wanted the plate to be brought away or re-filled.  
But knowing Arqeez, ge was pretty sure he meant the latter.  
Checking the tags next to the food, Zekra looked up which of the offerings were compatible with Arqeez’ biochemical profile on ger wrist computer, then put a selection of the more interesting food items on the plate. As ge went back to ger ‘master’, another attendant was just about to settle down next to him.

  
The individual was large and heavy-set, something even their tassled, layered robes couldn’t hide. Zekra spotted at least two pairs of legs folding under their body on the seat as their elongated neck craned over to Arqeez to face their new conversational partner. Zekra handed him the plate with a bow, then stepped aside to resume ger role as ‘translator’.  
“I have noticed you the moment you have stepped into the hall,” the individual said with a deep, flowing voice. “In all the time I have lived, I have never seen anyone like you. Care to introduce yourself to me?”  
Arqeez looked at Zekra’s ringed antenna and gave a reply, his conversational partner tilting their head in curiosity when hearing the unfamiliar language.  
“Arthaleis, the Prince of Idrath, appreciates your curiosity. It is his first time to attend a meeting of the Exoskeletals’ Club and he has taken a long journey upon himself for it,” Zekra said.  
The individual shuddered in delight. “Royalty from a faraway planet, splendid! I cannot say I have ever heard of Idrath, but I don’t think I would be adverse to visiting it!”  
“Arthaleis would be pleased.” Zekra had a hard time not to burst out in laughter, considering ge actually knew that Idrath was probably the last inhabited planet this individual would want to visit. Ge hadn’t bothered to make up a fake name for Arqeez’ origins, since there were exactly two people not being on the planet itself knowing its native name and both of them were participating in this charade.  
Arqeez spoke again.  
“Arthaleis will consider your offer and wants to know whom he is conversing with and if their planet can be visited by him in return.”  
The individual’s neck rose. “Oh how rude of me, to fire questions at you, but not to introduce myself! Call me Madame Kos-Cenivei of Ulumoura, a prosperous nation on Nerikotan.”  
Zekra’s antennae rose up when hearing of the locations. Looking closer at the individual, ge could tell that she was indeed a female Nerikei, just hidden underneath a lot of clothing and having her head crest either filed down or permanently removed for one reason or another, which was the reason why Zekra couldn’t identify her species at first. Maybe this was the Baroness they were looking for?  
Kos-Cenivei noticed ger staring.  
“A curious choice of servant you have, your highness, and very brave. I hope you do know what the Exoskeletals’ Club thinks about these types of species. Do you trust it?”  
Arqeez replied, but unlike with the Qono’en it wasn’t a rude retort.  
“Arthaleis says, this individual is kept in check by having had parts of its central nervous system removed, and it is definitely more trustworthy than an electronic translator. He is also curious about how Madame Kos-Cenivei guarantees the trust of her servants.”  
She made a burbling sound, her version of a laugh. “A proper mixture of financial incentives and threats does it well. Just making sure their trust is their only choice.”  
Zekra gave Arqeez the hint to speak again, then ‘translated’. “Arthaleis is curious about Madame Kos-Cenivei’s status, considering she can spare her servants financial incentives.”  
She shuffled into a more lax, comfortable position on the seat. “Is ‘Baroness’ a status high enough for you?”  
Zekra tried ger best to look unfazed. She was indeed the Baroness of Ulumoura, having come to them without them having to look for her. With her identity confirmed, it was now to find out where her data stash was. Ge made Arqeez say a reply to her.  
“The Prince of Idrath is pleased to speak with a fellow noble. He was hoping to meet other nobles from different planets in this meeting.”  
“The Baroness of Ulumoura is pleased as well, to meet someone she could consider a kindred soul,” she replied, copying Zekra’s style of ‘translation’.  
“Arthaleis wants to offer the Baroness of Ulumoura to be brought some food from the buffet by his translator.”  
Kos-Cenivei passed Zekra a glance, then tilted her head. “No, I don’t want anything right now. Lobotomized or not, I prefer not to trust an endoskeletal.”  
“Arthaleis is understanding of your choice. He wonders if Kos-Cenivei has any of her own servants nearby to have her brought food later.”  
“Are you flirting with me?” the Baroness asked, with a slow blink. Arqeez slightly jolted at her accusation, but his antennae pointed straight up, showing his interest. He wanted to reply something, but the Baroness continued to talk. “But no, I don’t have any servants with me. Such finicky things like food or personal hygiene should be always handled by oneself. You never know what someone might slip into your food or bath water if they disagree with their terms of employment.”  
Zekra let Arqeez talk for a little longer before lowering ger right antenna and translating.  
“Arthaleis is intrigued and understanding. While he is not concerned about himself due to keeping his most close servants with biological manipulation in check, he always fears thefts of important papers or data. He is wondering how the Baroness handles these and if she can give him suggestions.”  
“Hmm, of course you can’t just remove parts of the brains of those handling these sorts of things, considering it requires intelligence. This is why I never let anyone close to my data except myself. Either carry them on myself all the time or make sure they are in a safe place. Right now, we are surrounded by a lot of foreign people and while I deem them more trustworthy than the average population outside on the streets, one can never be sure if someone decides to slip their appendage into your pockets in such a lively place, so I have them locked in my hotel room.”  
She reached into her robes and pulled a complicated-looking contraption made from a yellow metal to show it to Arqeez, who curiously looked at it.

  
“A good, old-fashioned lock. None of this modern electronic nonsense that can be hacked. This is why I appreciate vintage hotels, for providing the safest safes available outside of banks or governmental institutions.” She put the lock away. Arqeez nodded at her explanation.  
“Arthaleis is curious about the choice of hotel Kos-Cenivei had made.”  
“Oh my, do I hear a suggestion for post-meeting activities? You do not have to be shy about it. I do think you are a very interesting individual, from a place I have never heard about before. You are large and for your size surprisingly elegant, not like those coarse Eruk-Shoi guards you have seen in front of the gate. You have beautiful eyes. And yes, I would indeed prefer to continue our ‘talk’ in my hotel room rather than one of the restrooms in the Cinnabar Hall, who knows who had used them before.”  
Arqeez’ antennae shook with the implications. Zekra grinned under the veil, maybe they wouldn’t just get paid a handsome sum today, but ger companion would also be able to let off some steam from his nearly bottomless kettle. Ge made Arqeez reply to the Baroness’ suggestion, but even his foreign language couldn’t hide his nervousness.  
“Arthaleis appreciates the offer, but he might want to calm his nerves before this sort of activity first, preferably by himself. If it takes a bit longer and the Baroness of Ulumoura doesn’t want to wait by his side, he would like to know where to find her.”  
“You’re such a charming fellow,” Kos-Cenivei said, accompanied by a slow blink. “Twiner’s Tangle, room F 26. If we don’t go there together, I will make sure entering it will be a surprise. Just make sure to tell the receptionist you were invited by me.”  
“Arthaleis thanks for the information.”  
“But enough about me, what about you? How is Idrath?”  
Arqeez made a reply, while Zekra quickly put a fake planet and society together. “A nice place. Warm and dry, with beautiful geology. The population is not dense, but that only means there is more each one present.”  
The Baroness continued to ask Arqeez about his home planet and Zekra continued to make things up. Ge knew everything ge needed, but needed some time before acting. After Kos-Cenivei was satisfied with the information about the planet, she wanted to know more about Arqeez family, and that was where Zekra decided to end it. Squirming and stepping from one leg to the other, ge spoke to Arqeez directly.  
“Your Highness, your humble translator wishes to be granted a toilet break. It has been faithfully and tirelessly translating your words for several korrts, but any longer and it might publicly embarrass you.”  
As agreed, Arqeez made a dismissive hand motion, with which Zekra scurried off towards the right wing of the Cinnabar Hall. The ensemble playing on the string instruments brought their piece to a fulminant end and numerous whoops and other sounds showing the appreciation of the listeners were directed their way. As soon as they died down, the musicians began a new piece, slower and calmer than the one before.  
“So unfortunate your translator is gone,” the Baroness said, leaning against the seat’s backrest while facing Arqeez. “I would have loved to continue hearing about you, but I guess now is the time to tell more about me. Maybe you would like to pay a visit to Nerikotan someday like I would like to pay a visit to Idrath.” Her hand emerged from the robes and placed itself on the couch's backrest, a tentacle-like finger tracing circles on it.

Zekra did ger best to not look too nervous, the tag around ger neck on display to show ge was a servant without the company of ger master. Ge did get numerous glares on ger way, one Voeludian directed an open threat display at ger with extended, rattling neck fans, but to ger luck, nobody forced ger to go back to ger master or got rough. Ge made it to the relatively empty right wing, a curved, tiled corridor with numerous doors of different shapes and sizes on one side. Slipping through a door that was smaller than what would be appropriate for ger size, ge was in a room containing a toilet in the ground, several watertight lockers in the wall and a shower. And the type of facilities ge actually needed; a window close to the ceiling.  
With the room being built for smaller species, it was easy to wind gerself out of the window, then reach for nearby twiners covering the wall and climb onto the roof of the building. It was rough and uneven, overgrown with a variety of epiphytes and sessile animals feeding on the aerial plankton.

  
Half of the roof leant against another offshoot of the enormous tree the Cinnabar Hall was attached to, with the numerous twiners and their large, dark green leaves obscuring it reasonably well. Aside from ger and the epiphytes, there was also a rough brown bag leaning against the trunk, with an equally brown fluid container standing next to it.  
Opening the eyelets of ger costume, Zekra quickly peeled gerself out of it, then folded it to be placed on the roof. A quick search of the location of the hotel and its layout on the wrist computer made ger grin in anticipation; it was located on the same tree about a hundred metres above, which meant ge could skip the part of carrying the utensils to a hideout closer to it. Zekra took the wrist computer and the shoes off, then reached behind to draw down the zipper of ger one-parter. Having rid gerself of the final piece of clothing, ge folded the brightly-coloured dress into the one-parter after removing Ak-Shmay’s data reader from one of its pockets. The clothes were wedged between the strings of the twiners, where it was unlikely for them to be seen. With the clothing out of the way, ge opened the bag and was greeted by the sight of fine, greyish-brown mud.  
 _Just as ordered_ , ge thought, reaching into the bag and beginning to smear the substance on ger bare, white and brown skin. The distinct colouration was actually for camouflage in a forest environment, but unlike Serkanis, the bark of the trees of Leyrr-Rhat ranged from greyish to reddish brown rather than white and the autotrophs growing on it were green and mostly foliose rather than the brown crusts ge knew from the forests of ger home planet.  
Having ger natural colouration concealed and ger smell masked, ge wrapped the strings of the data reader around the base of ger tail, where it would not get into the way, then took a look up the twiners. They did quickly vanish out of sight, hidden behind leaves and parts of the building, but the sheer amount of them made ger sure there would be a more or less direct way up to the aptly-named hotel in question. Reaching in between the large leaves, Zekra began ger ascent.  
  
Arqeez wasn’t sure how long Zekra’s part of the mission would take. Part of him hoped ge would be back soon, another part didn’t mind ger absence. The Baroness was a very attentive individual, having had made her interest in him clear. The only problem was the communication.  
“And this is how Routhia came into possession of the water filtering complex without having to pay a grain of sand. You might try out the same thing on Idrath, if the climate your lands is like you have said, water processing is surely playing a big role there.”  
Arqeez told her he just might, but since he was still speaking his native language which the Baroness didn’t understand a word of, he could have said anything. It had gone on like this from the time Zekra had left, her telling stories about her home world’s nobility and him being the attentive listener, curiously studying her features while she talked.  
The Baroness tilted her head. “Hmm, I do wish this was less one-sided. Your translator is taking awfully long.”  
“Ge has constipation,” Arqeez replied. Considering the Baroness didn’t understand his language, he tried to mime his words with gestures, which resulted in a burbling laugh from her.  
“Oh well, I guess it can’t be helped. If you want, I can tell you about the miner strike in Kan-Kesh and how it ended.”  
Arqeez gave a brief nod, scratching his leg joints. The costume still pinched and he would be relieved to take it off soon.  
  
The twiners were as convoluted as expected, strings of them merging and splitting, growing at any kind of angle. Most of the time, it was vertical, nothing but smooth bark and easily loosened epiphytes being between the way up and a fall of a hundred metres down. Luckily, the g-morphotypes were adapted to this sort of environment, their small size, light weight and five prehensile limbs making the climb for Zekra barely any more exhausting and dangerous than a walk in a city.

  
The rushing of wings made ger press against the twiners between the leaves. The wings passed by on the other side of the liana tangle, creating enough wind in the thick air that the twiners swung in it. Zekra didn't care if this was a native flier, a tourist using one of the winged mounts to get a different view of Canray and its surroundings or an aerial sapient species passing by. The less risk to be seen, the better. Being sure the flier was far enough to not see anything, ge continued upwards.  
The underside of the platform holding the hotel became visible between the leaves and trunks. Not much was going on in its surroundings, the bridges were empty and the platform itself was silent, either because there was an afternoon break during the rain or because most of the hotel’s attendants were entertaining themselves in the Cinnabar Hall right now. Checking the surroundings for any prying eyes, Zekra noticed something else: the tangle ge was on attached to a branch a distance away from the platform or anything it contained, not offering a direct route to ger target. The fastest way to reach it was another string of twiners growing nearby. There were some lianas connecting them, but none of them looked like they were able to carry ger weight. The only way to get over was to jump.  
Having climbed up to the part the two tangles were closest, ge turned, both legs firmly planted on the thickest lianas within the string. The distance was manageable. Zekra released the hold with ger left hand, then pushed off the tangle with all the strength ge could muster. A moment there was over a hundred of metres of nothing but thick air below ger, then just as as the gravity’s pull took over the direction of ger trajectory, the other tangle was in reach. Hands and feet were outstretched to find purchase on the lianas – and missed. The large leaves hid a part where the lianas had split giving ger nothing to hold on save for the leaves themselves, which were promptly torn off. Ger panicked flailing resulted in nothing but more leaves to be loosened, ger falling past them barely after they were detached. On instinct, ge got a telekinetic hold of the tangle and yanked on it. The structure was way too massive for ger to move it, but ger own unsupported position changed ger trajectory from straight downwards to against the twiners, making ger hit them harder than ge intended. This time, there were enough thick lianas in reach to end ger fall, all four limbs got a tight grip on the twiners and for good measure, ger tail wrapped several times around the string. As Zekra tried to calm ger breathing, the loose leaves sailed past.

  
Still appalled and more than a bit embarrassed, ge looked around to check whether someone had noticed ger blunder, then remained where ge was for several more moments, to make sure that any unseen eyes were not looking ger way any more. Ge muttered several curses under ger breath and began ger ascent again. No matter how well-adapted ger morphotype was to this sort of environment, it didn’t outweigh the lack of practice.  
The little setback was the only unexpected event happening on the way up to the hotel. As ge climbed past the platform, the wall of it came into sight, rounded like the belly of a large beached fish and dotted with windows in a regular pattern. Awnings were shading each of them, robust enough to withstand the weight of the everpresent twiners covering the wall like a web, only removed in front of the windows themselves. Zekra stopped there, a barely-visible brown lump on the equally brown strings of lianas growing all over the place, to locate the correct window.  
It was the correct side, that ge was sure of thanks to the tunnel-like atrium being visible extending to the right on the platform. Counting from the fourth row below, ger eyes focussed on a specific window on the wall.  
If ge counted right, this was the window to the Baroness’ room.  
The network of twiners quickly brought ger to the window in question. From up close, ge could see it consisted of two parts. The upper one could be opened separately, a dense fly screen preventing any of the numerous tiny flying and floating animals that filled the air to get inside. Making sure the room and its surroundings were empty, Zekra gave both of them a telekinetic examination, confirming ger assumption that the place was mostly devoid of patrons. Then ger telekinetic reach concentrated on a bolt in the window frame and moving it upwards, the frame creaked and slightly moved. Zekra climbed onto the twiners above, pushed the window open with a foot, then descended onto the narrow windowsill.  
The room was small, but obviously meant to host rich patrons. The mobiliar was carved from wood that was either so dark it was nearly black or of a bright blue-green colour, the walls were hung with weaveries that seemed to blend different cultural influences together and a bowl of fresh, local fruit spread a sweet, heavy smell that might or might not have been placed there to cover up the smell of previous patrons.

  
Walking slowly and carefully, both to avoid making sound and leaving mud stains, ge neared the opposite wall. It wasn't even necessary to examine the room, since the wall carpet covering the safe was suspiciously stained and threadbare compared to the others from being lifted and placed back countless times. Folding the weavery back confirmed ger suspicion, as ger eyes met solid brass rather than the brown fibrous material the building's walls had been made of. The safe's door was featureless except for a keyhole adorning its middle, the correspondent key being hidden in the robes of its current owner in a different building.  
This was not an obstacle. Flipping ger antennae forwards and closing ger eyes, Zekra telekinetically reached into the lock mechanism and explored its workings, moving bits and pieces around while observing its effects. The hotel was vintage through and through, as the lock didn't even have a warning mechanism installed that would go off when the lock was being tampered with. It was still surprisingly complex and would take ger some time to work out and unlock.  
Absorbed in ger work as ge was, ge didn't notice how a hand neared the room's door.  
  
As enthusiastically as the Baroness was telling Arqeez about the miner strike, she still didn't manage to get him interested in the subject. What he gathered out of it was that underpaid workers were unhappy and her uncle, who owned the mine, improved the housing once and created some competition with another mine that let the workers forget about their wages. Listening to her made him hungry. He cast a brief glance at the plate he had emptied a while ago, nothing but a few crumbs being left on it.  
The Baroness noticed. “Oh, you wish for some food? Well, all this talking has made me hungry, too. I think I will pick up something for both of us,” she said, rising from the seat and stretching her limbs.  
Arqeez looked into the direction Zekra had made off to, then nodded. Out of the attention of the Baroness, he looked around, his eyes lingering on the commotion to the right of him, where a horizontally-oriented individual had their back claws outstretched while shouting at a bigger, mix-oriented one holding their front body upward and extending their colourful neck flaps in response. Zekra was taking awfully long. Any time longer and he would leave the seat, towards one of the restrooms with the Baroness accompanying him, communication issues or not...  
She returned soon after, only one plate in her hand loaded with a variety of delicacies.  
“I want you to try especially this one,” she said, lifting an elongated, edible cup filled with a pink cream from the plate, “it's a ceronicci, an Ulumouran speciality with exquisite spices imported from the Rajt colony, usually served on festive occasions.”

  
Arqeez took the cup from the Baroness' hands and examined it with his antennae. It had a sweet, pleasant smell with some minor spicy notes. Not sure how to eat it, he shoved the entire thing into his mouth. It seemed like there were small soft pieces hidden under the cream, which together with the crispy cup made an interesting blend of textures and flavours.  
“Now, select one for me.”  
Looking at the Baroness, Arqeez figured he was now supposed to do the same she did. He picked up a light blue, rounded item with four seams running along it. “This is... a round thing I don't know about,” he awkwardly said in his native language before handing it over.  
The Baroness chuckled as she took the food item. “A souum. A root flour dumpling made to resemble sou fruit. The aristocrat version of a popular commoner's dish, made from higher-quality ingredients.” She brought the souum to her mouth, her four jaws picking it up and tearing it apart by working in pairs. Then it was her turn to pick up a food item again.  
“Louash. It's actually a Lacati dish, said to have been served to successful warriors in older times. I do think it's fitting for you. When your translator returns, I want to ask if you are involved in the military on Idrath.”  
The item in question was fashioned of a hard, pale substance and might or might not resemble a face. It crunched under the flattened teeth of his internal jaws.  
As it was now his turn to select, Arqeez was studying the plate again. One item looked especially peculiar to him, a colourful arrangement of prepared leaves, glazed in a layer that made them look like they had a rainbow corona. However, Arqeez noticed that the other objects in his view had the same corona for some reason. He blinked several times and the weird illusion was gone. He handed the leaf arrangement to the Baroness.  
“Oh, how charming! A bouloquin, usually gifted among young lovers. My dear Arthaleis, this day is promising to become a very special one.”  
Arqeez did hope so, and was anticipating the moment it would become 'very special'. He folded and unfolded his fingers for a few moments before taking the next food item the Baroness chose for him, to chase out the numbness from their tips. This stupid dress was becoming really irritating by now.  
  
The door creaked as Dorrai opened it. Slipping his long neck inside first, he did see an empty, neat hotel room.

  
First, his eyes went to the cast metal trash can, which was empty. Then, they scanned the furniture and the hooks on the walls for dirty clothing, finding only a towel next to the washbowl, which turned out to be dry and unused. Generally, the room was in a pristine state, only the luggage suggesting it was currently inhabited. Most likely, it was one of those insufferable exoskeletal nobles currently eating and drinking themselves into an early grave in the Cinnabar Hall. Being nobles, Dorrai expected them to have manners, but all of them had been so _rude_ , looking at him like he was a barely-functioning cleaning robot. At least they would leave soon again. As he had 38 more rooms to check, remove trash from and bring dirty clothes and towels to the laundry, Dorrai left the room as quietly as he had entered it. This guest in particular might be one who at least treated the room with respect if not him, but he had seen several rooms where he wondered those so-called nobles weren't a horde of drunken youths in disguise.  
  
As soon as the door creaked shut, Zekra descended from ger hiding place on the struts bearing the ceiling. Ge was once again thankful for the Baroness having checked in in a vintage hotel, where the doors were creaky and the wooden struts supporting the ceilings were uncovered, to allow the guests to hang things onto. And for hiring an elderly Raakano as a page, which had trouble looking upwards even when young.  
With the hotel employee gone, ge focussed on ger original task again. Having worked out the mechanism of the lock, ge brought the pins into position, then turned the cylinder until a satisfying click came from inside.  
The safe contained several briefcases, a carved casket, a box typical for transporting a 5D optical crystal and several simpler storage devices.

  
There were notes on each of the devices, but since Zekra wasn’t able to read the language the notes were written in, ge connected the reading device to each of them and copied all contents. Ak-Shmay would have to sort the data out by himself. The box with the crystal remained untouched, as ge didn’t have access to a 5D optical reader. With all data that could be copied having been copied, Zekra put the devices back into their original positions as best as ge could, closed the safe and locked it again, then left through the window, putting the locking bolt back once being back on the lianas outside. Nothing suggested there had been any unwanted visitors in the room just moments before.  
Climbing the twiners down went without incidents and soon enough, Zekra was back on the roof of the Cinnabar Hall’s right wing, washing the mud off with water from the canister. The liquid was soaked up by the thick layer of epiphytes covering the roof. With ger clothing back on, ge slipped through the narrow window into the toilet cubicle and reached for the doorlock.  
This was way too easy. The information easily-obtained, the hotel being close-by, the room easy to reach from the outside, the lock barely-protected… this all stank of something colossally failing along the way.  
And as summoned, there was someone else in the corridor outside.  
“There you are!” The startling voice came from a Limarian, which was strange enough, considering they were endoskeletals. He also wore an uniform, marking him as a policeman or member of a security company. He ran up to the perplexed Serkanian, looking rather frantic.  
Zekra tried to keep a straight face under ger costume’s veil. It was impossible he was here because of ger little detour during the toilet break.  
“Please come to the main hall, your master Arthaleis had been poisoned!”  
  
“I swear, I had nothing to do with it! It was all an accident!”  
The Baroness of Ulumoura was standing in front of the seat Zekra had left her with Arqeez, asserting her innocence to three more policemen. The area around them was devoid of other people, which continued with their meeting a distance away from the scene.

  
“What did happen? Where is he?” Zekra asked the Limarian.  
“According to Kos-Cenivei's claims, it is a biochemical incompatibility of some of the food items being served. But you can never know if it wasn’t an attempt to poison him, considering where we are. Arthaleis had been brought to the Kon Ei 9 hospital to be treated. It’s the biggest hospital of Canray, treating a species unfamiliar to them should be within their possibilities.”  
“Well, as long as their...” Zekra stopped, ger antennae folding against ger head and ger hearts briefly falling out of rhythm. “Shit!”  
Ge left the Limarian and the other policemen quickly behind, running for the door.  
“Hey, we are not done he-”  
“He doesn’t have his medical data with him!”  
Zekra would probably refuse a part of the payment for the copied data just to be allowed to give Ak-Shmay a good kick in the rear. The nobles and their stupid values had resulted in Arqeez getting into enough trouble that it might lead to permanent damage or end his life altogether, all the while the documents that would allow proper treatment having to be carried around by ger, because pockets would have looked bad on his costume.  
Ge ran past the four Eruk-Shoi guards and into the crowd of visitors taking a break from the Cinnabar Hall’s inside. Several indignant exclamations later, ge had reached the platform’s edge, where a massive, overgrown cable held the platform in place. The surprised attendants watched Arthaleis’ servant hurry up the structure barely slower than ge had run up to it, vanishing in the foliage soon enough. With the distraction gone from their sights, they quickly resumed with their chatter.  
Cableways were too slow and so far, Zekra hadn’t seen any small flying vessels around Canray, which meant it would likely take some time for one to arrive if called. Ge briefly stopped on an intersection of twiners to take off the unyieldy costume and leave it there to retrieve later, then continued upwards. Twiners, cables, platforms, branches… the only thing that mattered was to get higher. There was a transport method fast and available enough, but the next place to find it was on the emergent. A thick tangle of lianas brought ger up through the canopy and a split from it grew past the platform ge was aiming for. Despite the atmosphere's high oxygen content Zekra was out of breath when ge jumped down on it, but the seething panic still made ger run over it at a reasonable speed.  
“No, no, wait, you can’t-” the surprised owner of the platform shouted at the Serkanian running past. Several crested heads rose to look at the commotion happening. “We’re closed!”  
“Emergency, will pay later!”  
The Shirr looked up, curious what the reason for the shouting to his right was. But all he could make out was a white, grey and brown blur leaping at him and hitting him into the side so hard both fell off the platform.

  
The surprised animal hooted and was able to halt his fall after several erratic flaps with his large, leathery wings, upon which he shot forward and away from the platform he called his home, the creature he assumed to be a predator still stuck on the harness covering his back.  
As docile and easily manageable Shirr were, this one was confused and frightened from having been roped in for a flight without any warning. Accordingly, his primary interest was to get rid of his rider, his main wings beating erratically and him coming dangerously close to branches, twiners and artificial structures more than once. The hooting and rush of large wings scared various smaller fliers from their hiding spots on the plants. Zekra was fully occupied with holding on to the harness with all four limbs, ger tail additionally hooked into a strap. Changing ger position a bit, ge got hold of the reins, yanking them to get the mount under control.  
“Fly straight, you piece of shit!”  
It made the situation only worse. The Shirr hooted and shook his head, a powerful flap carrying him over a branch and slamming Zekra into his back. Then he decided to take a dive straight down to shake his rider off, another yank on the reins quickly ending it through a series of erratic flaps, upon which the Shirr began to rise, curving back into the direction he came from.  
Zekra was cursing down a storm while pulling on the reins. Shirr were said to be so easy to fly even someone who had never ridden a walking mount could do it, yet either ge had the bad luck of having picked the most stubborn of the flock, or... ge let the reins hang loose when realizing.  
 _Animals are not spaceships_ , Zekra said to gerself. They had a mind of their own, and rather than being controlled, they should be nudged. Ge tightened ger feet’s grip on the harness and rather than yanking the reins like the _Sciara_ 's control module, ge began to slowly tug them to the left. And indeed, the Shirr changed his trajectory to a more straight line, still erratic, but calming down once feeling this familiar sensation. Soon enough, his flight was smooth enough for Zekra to look up the location of the hospital on ger wrist computer while the wind was whistling in ger ears. Ge corrected the Shirr's course until the movement of the dot indicating ger position on the map was in line with the mark. From there, the Shirr flew by himself, only minor course corrections kept the dot moving towards the mark of the hospital on the map. When it was close enough, Zekra began to steer the Shirr downwards.  
At first it was a gentle dip, the angle becoming ever steeper as the dense canopy came closer. The Shirr pulled his main wings close to the body and dove straight into it. Leaves rustled and branches cracked, nothing but a blur of green around them while Zekra pressed close to the mount's back, the large crest protecting both of them from the whipping foliage. The Shirr burst through the canopy layer in a shower of ripped-loose leaves and broken-off branches, but rather than opening his main wings, he unfurled his four shorter, more robust limb wings, which were built for the manoeuvrability necessary to fly through the labyrinth of trunks and lianas.

  
Zekra remained close to his back and behind the head crest, letting him weave through the forest while keeping watch on the map on the wrist computer.  
Ge couldn't quite believe what ge was doing. Not too long ago, ge would have just cursed Arqeez' stupidity and left the medchip to the policeman, delivered the copied data to Ak-Shmay, then wait for the Idrath to be released from the hospital. But now, ger immediate reaction had been to flee the scene, take on a risky climb and flight to have the medchip personally delivered as quickly as possible.  
Soon enough, the hospital came into sight. It was set on several platforms close to the ground, forming a large complex of buildings. One of the platforms coming into sight between the large trunks and liana tangles had no building on it, being occupied by small intraatmospheric vessels to transport patients. There was plenty of space for ger to steer the Shirr down to land. The mount briefly spread his main wings to slow down and extend his four folded leg-wings. Zekra let go of the harness the moment the Shirr had touched the platform and ran off to the tunnel that connected the landing platform with the next building. The Shirr was likely able to return to the platform on the emergent on his own.  
Ge almost missed the receptionist desk, sliding to a halt.  
Can I help?” the bewildered Tolemo behind it said, then looked at the pile of cards thrown onto the table in confusion.  
“An exoskeletal of unknown species and no medical data had been brought here recently,” Zekra said, trying to regain ger breath. “A poisoning or a biochemical incompatibility. Where is he now?”  
“Yes, I remember that one,” the receptionist said, picking up the topmost card. It was a standard medchip, issued for the strange exoskeletal in question. He put it into a reader, activated the intercom and notioned Zekra to wait.  
“Room Ik 37, the data for your patient have arrived right now. It seems like the medchip was on someone else, I'm not sure in what relationship the individual bringing it is to- where are you going? You have no access to those parts!”  
Zekra had entered the room's location into a plan of the hospital the moment it was said and took off into the direction shown on ger wrist computer.  
“Doing my job, check the other cards!”  
The receptionist looked through the pile. A worn-out, folded piece of paper with the biochemical profile of their patient written out in full length, followed by a personal ID of the Serkanian who had just burst in. He looked over the card and his eyes widened.  
  
Shekk'Terr had been doing her best to save her strange patient, but so far, she only managed to slow the deterioration down. Working in a base where a lot of different species had made their home was enough hassle, but this one was a species no one in the hospital had seen ever before and the database had no information about. It made treating his poisoning or biochemical incompatibility nearly impossible. Worse yet, he had been mostly unresponsive and mumbling gibberish even her universal translator couldn't make any sense of, before they had to sedate him. Now he was lying on the table in the middle of the room, the expensive clothing half pulled off, hooked up on various tubes and wires. Yet, he was still half-conscious due to the sedative not working well and the anaesthetist not daring to increase the dose because of fearing adverse effects on the unknown biochemistry.   
Analyses and symptoms clearly pointed to some neurotoxin being in effect, but neither the stomach contents nor the blood sample contained anything that would be considered toxic, at least not for the common biochemical profiles. It meant the symptoms came either from a rare poison that wasn't being registered or the problem was a common component having adverse effects on an unusual profile. The colleagues in the biochemistry ward were frantically working on deciphering the patient's biochemical profile, but it was a process that took terts at best.  
All of a sudden, the intercom activated, making Shekk'Terr jolt with surprise. Then her cerci curled with relief and elation and soon enough, a long row of letters and numbers appeared on her screen. The patient's biochemical profile. She started to decipher it. A fairly typical profile for a low- to mid-range standard temperature lifeform, which meant the issue was in the finer details.  
Her work was interrupted by the plastic door covers being flung back. The figure who entered was not one of her colleagues, but an unfamiliar Serkanian, who ran up to her patient and whispered close to his head. The patient mumbled out something unintelligible, four eyes wandering the room without focus. The Serkanian briefly put ger hand on his forehead, then focussed ger attention on one of the screens nearby.  
“I do not think you are allowed here,” Shekk'Terr straightened out and growled, “please leave immediately.”

  
“And I do think we have a patient to save,” the Serkanian replied with an agitated voice, still focussed on the screen. “I am a graduated physician, ask the receptionist for a confirmation if you don't believe me. I have left my identification tag with him.”  
Shekk'Terr got her animosity under control and activated the intercom, but all she got from Wejtau was that the Serkanian told the truth. According to him, ge was also the one who had delivered the patient’s medchip, so the field of expertise combined with the possible closeness to the patient probably made ger the most qualified medic present to take care of the poisoning.  
“And there we have the problem. Fucking Rajt produce. You found that in his stomach contents, right? The semuloin in it is known to block several types of chirality transferases in species with D-L proteins. In his case, it leads to a buildup of L-dighrenine due to a lack of the enzyme meant to further metabolize it, which acts as a neurotoxin once accumulated enough.”  
Shekk'Terr understood. D-L protein species were were fairly uncommon, hence the specific issues with them were not too high on her radar. From there, treating the patient’s poisoning should be easy. She entered the different types of semuloin blockers and dighrenine neutralizers they had at hand to let the program countercheck the side effects and adverse reactions with the biochemical profile, then hurried to the back wall, where shelves upon shelves contained a multitude of antidotes and other concoctions. As she reached for the drawer where the desired semuloin blocker was, she noticed the Serkanian was at the shelves gerself, scanning through the labels.  
“The magnesium level is also too low. I’m not quite sure what shit caused it, but-”  
Shekk’Terr reached for a different drawer to remove a jar with white powder, then hurried over to the work table to mix the substances together. “Got it. Monitor his vitals while I prepare the injection.”  
  
It was like awakening from a bad dream. There was barely a clear memory left in his head, just lingering fear and discomfort. And his limbs prickling as if cairrs were digging around in his skin. Arqeez opened his eyes, greeted by darkness. They slowly adjusted to the little light, showing him the dark shapes of the interior of an unfamiliar room. It was relatively empty, naked walls with a few shelves and small cupboards placed close to them. He found himself on a bed on ground level, large enough for someone exceeding his own size. Arqeez closed his eyes again, the little movements he did to look around were enough to make him feel dizzy and nauseous.  
He noticed he was not alone.  
Looking around more carefully, Arqeez’ senses were drawn to the shapeless object lying on the bed close to his head he initially assumed to be a pillow. The worrying part about was that the ‘pillow’ was breathing. Arqeez' clumsy movements from trying to put a bit of distance between himself and the object startled it and an all too familiar head rose from its middle, a pair of antennae sticking up and the bit of nocturnal light coming from the window making the eyes shine. The Idrath relaxed upon recognizing his companion.  
“Fuck, must have fallen asleep...” Zekra mumbled. “Welcome back, Arqeez.”  
“What happened? Where am I?” Arqeez leaned back again, the dizziness returning.  
“A recovery room in Canray's state hospital. You got into quite a heap of shit with that food served at the meeting. How do you feel?”  
“Everything is spinning.”  
Zekra sighed. “Well, it's a good thing your nervous tissue can regenerate and the dighrenine hasn't killed anything important. What were you and the Baroness doing in my absence that had you stuff yourself with food from Rajt? I think it was clear by now that you shouldn't eat unfamiliar food.”  
Arqeez tried to think of what happened, but everything was a haze. They were in a large hall, Zekra wore a ridiculous dress, there had been a robed exoskeletal involved he had been talking to.  
“I think... we had shared food.”  
Zekra uncurled from ger preferred sleeping position and sat up, a few taps on the portable computer strapped to ger wrist bringing some light into the dark room.

  
“Let's see... doesn't look like your incident caused a diplomatic fallout, as apparently there were four more biochemical incompatibilities, one of which resulted in a lost limb, two actual poisonings and three fights that ended up with at least one party needing medical treatment. The Baroness of Ulumoura had left an apology on the hospital's electronic pin and said she had to leave. Well, if I hadn't missed anything, I guess our little posse didn't get uncovered. Shekk'Terr, the Zambularian who had kept you alive had also said she couldn't understand a word of what you said while delirious. That is quite the commitment to the cause, Arqeez. You would make a great actor.”  
Arqeez tried to sit up himself, the nausea slowly decreasing. “Please lie down. You might be over the worst of it, but you need to rest for now,” Zekra told him with a side glance.  
“For how long? Weren't we on a job?”  
“Depends on how quickly you recover. I can pay Ak-Shmay a visit in the morning to get the copied data delivered, retrieve that stupid costume, then have a brief talk with the police and pay the Shirr keeper. From then I'll be here, because to take care of the antigravity drive I would prefer to get to a different settlement far away on this planet, before anyone here recognizes us from the meeting.”  
Arqeez tried to sit up again.  
“No really, lie down. The less you move around, the faster you recover. If you need anything, like some water, I can bring it to you.”  
“No water,” the Idrath said, doing as he was told. “But it’s so quiet and we are alone. I have some other ideas of what we can do...”  
Zekra looked at him with a flat expression.” I wish there had been one part of your brain the dighrenine had eaten away. Besides, haven’t you pulled the Baroness into one of the restrooms to have your fun with her the moment I left? You two looked like you were about to start screwing on the seat.”  
“I didn’t. We couldn’t communicate well without you being present,” the Idrath remembered. “Besides, right now she isn’t here. But you are.”  
Zekra gave him an amused smile. “Well, I still need you, who else would don a ridiculous costume for me to play my master and distract a horny Baroness while I steal her sensitive data?”  
Arqeez rumbled a laugh and turned his eyes on the recovery room’s roof. Of course. They had been together from the moment they had left Idrath, having only each other for company if he didn’t count the karucat. As rough as their tone usually was, after a brush with death he would have expected nobody else waiting by his side for him to wake up.


	5. A man's trash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another past story, this time about how Zekra came into possession of a spaceship, which involved soiled pants and an angry wife. And yes, the nose art on the ship is an alien equivalent of a furry pinup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The hissing foreign language mentioned in the text isn't Unicomlang (which is heavy on vowels), but Amitran, a Serkanian language.

Finally, the shift had come to an end and it was time to go home. Enjawi reclined on her seat in the shuttle, the luggage off her back and the working stress off her mind. Most people she could see within the curvature of the passenger ring of the shuttle flying between Je-Kel and Jenau-7-5 were also employees of the major mining company going back home. She saw postures indicating tiredness, sometimes the anticipation of seeing friends and family again. There were a few passengers that were not Je-Kei; Fhirrk, a Zambularian who was also working for the company, and others who were not familiar to her. Probably visitors or other types of transients. A Qono'en chatting with a Je-Kei with the help of an universal translator device, an unknown species of endoskeletal with a striped face, apparently dozing on the seat, and a pair of equally-unknown species she couldn't even tell the type of skeleton of probably five degrees of curvature away.

  
As Enjawi turned her head to the other side, a sight most unpleasant appeared in her compound eyes. Her antennae retracted into their protective grooves.  
“Aah, my dear friend Enjawi,” Gashar announced dhimself. Big even for a male of the dominant type, and a personality to match. Luckily, dhe wasn't working in her department, but even from there she had heard enough of dhis reputation before she had to meet dhim in person.  
“I do think we should go out some time during our break. I have made sure to have mine match with yours this work cycle, you know,” dhe said in dhis loud, rumbling voice.  
“Please go. I already have a partner.” Enjawi pushed herself back into the seat, the padded fabric giving little way to put more distance between herself and the imposing d-male.  
Gashar snorted. “That pipsqueak? No, Enjawi, what you need is a _real_ male.” Dhe positioned dhimself in a way to emphasize dhis large size and the rough knobs covering dhis head. “You can't deny that with my appearance and position I am better than him.”

  
This sort of behaviour was the reason why she had considered only s-males as suitable partners and had settled with one for over ten years. Sure, he wouldn't stand a chance against someone like Gashar if it came to a fight, but at least he wasn't spending his time either chasing after every female or picking a fight with every male he saw.  
“I told you, I am not interested. Please go.”  
This was where Gashar's demeanour changed. “Listen. I am not putting all those efforts into you just to be brushed off again and again. I don't care if you are already partnered or whatever other excuse you have.”  
Enjawi nervously looked around. It seemed like everyone in the vicinity tried their best to ignore the incensed d-male's presence. A few females were whispering among each other, nervously casting glances at Gashar, while the males often pretended to be immersed in their portable entertainment devices or in paperwork. Especially the other d-males tried to be as unnoticeable as possible, fully aware that their odds were stacked against them if they decided to intervene. Fhirrk was helplessly looking back at her, the Qono'en was staring at the scene with interest while the endoskeletal was still dozing, seemingly completely unaware of the situation.  
There was no help or support to expect from the other passengers, not with an adversary this intimidating.  
“You are scaring me.”  
“Damn well I do,” Gashar replied, dhis lower mandibles expanded. “That just shows how _good_ I am. With me, no one will _dare_ to do any harm to you. That pipsqueak you have chosen? He would be in the other side of the ring right now, a trail of shit leading to his position. Totally worthless. I'm asking you out and I won't have a 'no' for an answer.”  
“I-” Enjawi had to pause, to push through the feeling of arresting terror this d-male instilled in her. “I have already told you. There are plenty of females searching for a partner. Ask them.”  
Gashar growled. That sounded awfully lot like a 'no' to me. Don't you listen? I have told you that I will not take a-”  
Whatever dhe wanted to say was drowned out by a thunderous fart ripping itself from dhis backside. Gashar froze, several pairs of compound eyes on dhis back and the section of the ring being deathly silent.  
“I have taken telekinetic control over the contents of your alimentary canal,” a third voice entered the conversation, unpleasant and electronic, speaking over a hissing foreign language. “You can either fuck off now or it won't be just gas that will come out the next time.”  
It had come from the endoskeletal, their violet eyes now open and transfixed on Gashar, who spun around as soon as they had started to speak.  
“You, I will show you what-” the enormous d-male charged at the endoskeletal, who slightly tensed up but remained in their place. Dhis charge turned into a stagger just after a few steps when another fart loosened from dhim, accompanied by the clothing covering dhis abdomen staining and billowing out from the amounts of dung being released. Gashar quickly regained dhis momentum, but it was away into the direction dhe had come from, antennae retracted and head ducked in shame, likely beelining for the next toilet.

  
Moments later, nothing was left of dhis presence save for the stench. Several Je-Kei were rasping out a giggle, a few even a full-blown laugh. Fhirrk exhaled in relief and the endoskeletal bent their antennae back over their head, resuming their previous position.  
Enjawi exhaled with relief. The menacing d-male was off her back, at least for now. If she was especially lucky, this event of public embarrassment would deflate Gashar's ego enough for dhim to back off her completely.  
Yet, she was surprised at the fact the one to drive dhim off was this endoskeletal stranger. Where the lot of conspecifics had done nothing, this one had been brave enough to intervene. Sure, them being a telekinetic and likely being completely unaware of Gashar's social position helped, but it was still their choice to act instead of ignoring the situation and waiting for it to go away like the others. She wouldn't blame Fhirrk for his inaction due to him being treated especially gruesomely by Gashar just for not being a Je-Kei, but at least if the other d-males would have gotten over their own rivalries and cooperated against the single aggressor... well, she couldn't expect that much from males.  
Tentatively, Enjawi got up from her seat and sat down next to the endoskeletal. There were several empty seats in their proximity and up close, she could tell why. The lack of an external skeleton gave them an eerily boneless appearance, with a skin lacking features and constantly bulging and creasing under every movement as internal structures were shifting and sliding underneath.  
"Uh... thank you."  
The endoskeletal opened their eyes again and looked at her.  
"For driving that boorish male off."  
"That shitbag was getting annoying," the translating device strapped to their arm spoke over an unfamiliar language, set to translate it into the whistles and clicks of Kei-Ken.  
"Still, it was very brave of you to intervene. You are not from one of the mining companies on Jenau-7-5, I presume?"  
"No, just a traveller on public transit."  
Enjawi curled her antennae. "On a route from a mining colony to a section of a city mostly inhabited by people working in said colony?"  
"Well, going to the mining colony on a moon was a cheap flight in a vessel not stuffed to the seams with passengers. The fact that I could earn a few meirs on the transport ship was also a bonus."  
"Does that mean that you are an interstellar vagabond?"  
"Yes," the endoskeletal replied matter-of-factly.  
Enjawi just looked back for a few moments. She had heard unpleasant things about endoskeletals and even more unpleasant things about vagabonds. And now she was having a conversation with an individual who was both.  
“May I know where you originally came from then? I haven't seen anyone like you before.”  
“Serkanis.”  
Enjawi's antennae twitched when she heard the name. There was some familiarity behind it... _Of course_ , she remembered, bolting upright. Tekema, the favourite wife of Great Administrator Roukun, had taken a flight there to have her malformed right arm replaced. Even though organ printers were available on Je-Kel, too, she wanted it to be done by the ultimate experts in the field, with the newest models of printers in use.  
It had taken her almost two years before she returned, not only with a perfect right arm, but also with several scars and imperfections removed.  
“But... that is an immense distance away!”  
“The more distance, the better,” the endoskeletal who had revealed themselves as a Serkanian replied, antennae curving slightly.  
Once again, Enjawi was looking her conversational partner over. “Dare I ask why? I hope it is not because you are running from a crime you committed.”  
This time, the Serkanian snorted, apparently in amusement. “No, no crimes. More... personal reasons.”  
“Well, that is a reply that makes me all the more curious about those personal reasons. If it is not too intrusive, would you consider to tell me?”  
The Serkanian looked away, having their eyes travel over the interior of the passenger ring before focussing on Enjawi again. It took them several moments before they spoke. “Finished by medical education and fled the responsibility of having to actually work in the field.”  
Enjawi clicked her jaws. “I could have almost guessed, with you swearing like a surgeon. But seriously, you turned down a physician's job? Those pay reasonably well, especially in a place so renown for it as Serkanis! You could afford everything you wanted there, yet you are here, going from ship to harbour while hanging onto the lowest jobs just to scratch a few funds for the next ship together?”  
The Serkanian exhaled. “There was the choice between earning money and preserving my sanity. I opted for the latter.”  
Enjawi tilted her head. “I do not understand.”  
“Well, since the flight will take some terts, I might as well explain it. It's kind of a long story, one that started before I emerged from my pod. My mother is a renowned physician and as per Shek Amit tradition, I were to become one, too. From the beginning, ge was shaping me into this role. I was being taught the basics even before I could read, encouraged to take up hobbies that were applicable for the occupation and discouraged from those that were not.  
When it was time to put all this accumulated knowledge and skills into use in medical university, at first it went well. But with time passing, I slowly became aware how _bored_ I was by all of that. I took up extracurricular activities, the further away from medical responsibilities, the better. Thought it would distract me from the inevitable, but no. I knew that once the study was done it was to take up the job I had been shaped for all my life, yet was unfit to do. Because no matter how much I was being prepared for it, there was no amount of knowledge, no amount of practice that changed anything about the part where I have to take responsibility of others' lives. It was a thing that absolutely mortified me, that was probably the most important thing I had learned during those studies. Hence, rather than arresting myself in the role chosen for me, I finished up my studies, got the necessary certificates done and took the next ship that left Starcase. No waiting, no lengthy goodbyes. Just vanished off Serkanis' surface with barely a trace left.  
My mother got a recommendation letter for taking my best friend as the heir instead of me; ve was a first-time student from a nearby tribal culture, but one who studied because ve truly wanted to be a physician, not because it had been decided for ver. So, despite everything, I do hope everything went well there.”  
Enjawi just sat there for several moments. She actually felt proud of taking responsibility when organizing the schedules of her department, to make everything go as smooth and efficiently as possible. There was nothing as satisfying as the pride of her role having increased the efficiency of the company once again. She couldn't quite relate to leave everything behind and flee a planet altogether just to escape it.  
On the other hand, nobody's very life depended on her work.  
“And are you content with this arrangement? Is being an interstellar vagabond less boring or mortifying?”

  
“Well, it is different for sure. Constantly managing funds and having to lower your sights whenever it is not enough, living with the bare necessities... but honestly, I don't mind it. I get to see all kinds of places I would have to experience on pictures, videos and simulations otherwise. Taking up a variety of jobs to decide whether I enjoy doing them or not, being away before the boredom of routine sets in. So yes, I'm content with this arrangement. There is so much I would have missed working as a physician on Serkanis, never even aware of its existence.” Their pose slightly changed. “The one drawback is to leave one's friends and family without them knowing where I am and if I'm even still alive. To never know what those I left behind do. Whether my parents weren't too stressed with my vanishing, my friend got accepted as heir, my sibling managed to get ver job as composer.”  
Enjawi's antennae curled with curiosity when she spotted an inconsistency in the Serkanian's story. “But I thought children inherit their mother's job. Yet you say your sibling applied as composer. Why were they treated differently?”  
The Serkanian made a sound Enjawi figured to indicate amusement. “Ve wasn't, because my mother is ver father. Ver mother and also my father is a sculptor and didn't make a big thing of rer child to follow Shek Amit traditions, but still, ve wanted to be an artist nonetheless.”  
Tilting her head and curling her antennae, Enjawi took some time for herself from the conversation to process the information. She was pretty unfamiliar with most of the many species that inhabited the Known Galaxy, but from those she knew, including her own, each individual was either male or female. Unless there wasn't any advanced technology in play, Serkanians would have to be both, either at the same time or switching during their life. And thinking of it, her life would be a lot easier if Je-Kei were like that, too. No female would have to work twice as hard to get the same recognition as a male, while males still insisted to treat them like commodities, like resources to hoard despite females' rights having brought them so far to have them as equals at least on paper if not in minds.  
“But enough about me. What were your dealings with that nuisance who shat all over himself?”  
  
“This... I cannot accept this.”  
The Je-Kei passenger named Enjawi had turned out to be a pleasant conversational partner during the shuttle flight. Zekra would have considered that a fair pay for getting the annoying male off her back, but first she insisted ger to follow to her residence in the city's rims and use it for temporary stay for free, then she had directed ger to a private hangar and offered ger something that in Zekra's opinion was too expensive to even be paid off with ger threatening every single male into submission who had cast a dirty look at Enjawi throughout her life.  
“But I insist on you taking it.”  
The spaceship wasn't big and clearly an ancient model. Still, even old midge or gnat class ships were unaffordable to the majority of people. And even if Enjawi seemed to be well-off enough to have several more ships standing in the hangar, it was still nothing to be given away on a whim.

  
“I could never repay it. These things are _expensive_.”  
“It doesn't bother me in the slightest, Zekra. In fact, I would be happy to get rid of it.”  
The Serkanian looked at Enjawi's face, trying to find an indication of why. “What do you mean by it?”  
“Well, my good-for-nothing husband bought it. He thinks he has to collect vintage ship models, blowing all his money on them and begging me to loan more, too. I tolerated his foible for the first three times, but this one, it's like he picked it just to mock me.”  
Enjawi furiously gestured at the painting adorning the ship's side, close to the silvered cockpit windows. “This... thing! Does he think my abdomen isn't big enough for him? My eyes not bright enough? And just look at the head, absolutely repulsive! That is an ebeki head on a Je-Kei body, as if he is secretly getting off to nature documentaries!”  
Zekra looked at the painting, showing an unclothed, green exoskeletal with a raised leg and emphasis on the pale, bloated abdomen. Underneath, swirly Unicomlang letters read ' _Sciara_ '. It did seem kind of tacky, but nothing to fly into such a rage over. But then again, ge often enough had a hard time to empathize with the sometimes strange and complicated dynamics of species with different sexes.  
“But that means you are giving me a ship that belongs to someone else.”  
Enjawi snorted. “I have loaned him more than half of the money for this. Thought he had planned something nice for our anniversary, yet all I got was a lousy dinner and finding yet another ship in the hangar. I do not care about all the excuses he gave me for buying this specific thing, considering they all do nothing but collect dust. If I wouldn't hate this abomination so much, I would wish for it to be used for what it was made. It is an Ulushkurrian ship, those are built to function for centuries, to fly between solar systems rather than uselessly stand around. On behalf of me and the ship, please accept it. If you worry about any repercussions by my husband, I take full responsibility of this transaction. As I would have for selling it to a scrap dealer as I originally thought to do.”  
Zekra's eyes wandered from the ship to Enjawi and back. Since ge didn't expect her to retract the offer in the time ge would spend on Je-Kel, ge might as well accept.  
Enjawi raised her antennae in delight upon hearing it.  
“Can I look at its interiors?”  
As the Je-Kei scurried away to fetch the remote control for the ship's door, Zekra was looking over ger newest possession from nose to wing tip. Ge still couldn't believe it. Ger own ship just for forcing someone to void their bowels in public... if ge were ever to end up at a checkpoint with it, the security workers might think this was the worst story ever told by a thief.  
Ger train of thought changed to other matters once the ship's door opened downwards and extended a ramp to the ground.  
The interior revealed the ship to be a gnat class, having four pallets in the anterior part of the middle room. Generally, Zekra noticed the ship wasn't in use. While everything was clean and tidy, it was also rather empty, its equipment couldn't even call itself to have the bare necessities. Several parts of it were nonfunctional, too; two of the empty storage room's wire doors didn't budge and the shower didn't do any more than hissing and rumbling when turned on. At least the toilet and water tap seemed to be working and it appeared to be true for the air filtering system as well.  
The final room to check was the cockpit, where two chairs in front of steering modules greeted ger.

  
The right module had several springs loose and was tottering at its connection to the ground, but to ger delight, the left one seemed to be perfectly functional. Zekra sat down in the chair behind the left steering module while ge let the ship’s computer boot up. Sitting in it was manageable, but ge noted it would get pretty uncomfortable with the safety belts in use due to the seat not having anything to accommodate ger tail.  
The first thing ge did after the computer was ready was to do a system check; it did confirm what ge found about the shower and the right steering module, but to ger luck, every system that was necessary for interstellar flight was working. The damaged right module was retracted into the floor right away, the only other thing ge did before shutting the computer down again was to note down the ship type, to get a flying license for it. Zekra was not unfamiliar with flying a vessel, but there was still a big difference between a hospital flyer and a spaceship.  
  
It took several days to get everything done. Official space flight training at the harbour during the day, additional practice with the _Sciara_ ’s simulation mode afterwards, then cramming in some time for smaller jobs to afford the rations for the first flight. Enjawi was willing to pay for the fuel, but Zekra had refused any additional aid, since ge had to learn managing a spaceship gerself.  
The days had passed in a blink.  
With a freshly-issued flight license in ger pockets and a list of non-essential but handy things to acquire for gerself and the ship in ger mind, Zekra was watching the transport robots driving up the ramp, each holding a crate packed to the brim with food rations and the other necessary stuff ge had quickly scratched funds together for. Enjawi was stepping to ger side, after having activated the hangar roof's opening mechanism.

  
“So this is where we part ways,” Enjawi said, her compound eyes looking up at the evening sky revealing itself behind the roof gates. “I can say I did enjoy your presence, quite a change from those I am usually acquainted with.”  
“The pleasure is all mine, Enjawi.” The final robot, the one that had carried a box with a number of old and simple tools for smaller repairs, rolled down the ramp. “Thank you for everything again.”  
“Thank _you_ ,” the Je-Kei replied, her antennae trembling with delight. “Gashar has announced dhe will switch to a different mining company after publicly embarrassing dhimself in front of a number of co-workers. This alone is worth more than this old ship for me.”  
“Well, good luck with your work without that crap-cannon on your back. Farewell.”  
Zekra went up the _Sciara_ ’s ramp and shared a last glance with Enjawi before the door closed and sealed. Ge secured the cargo, then hurried into the cockpit, not bothering with hiding ger excitement.  
The first actual flight was so much different than using a simulator. There was simply no way to properly simulate the trembling and rattling of the ship when the turbines howled to life, the first tilts when the machine began to leave the ground, the subtle changes in sound when the turbines reacted to the small adjustments of their position to counteract the tilts. The ship left the hangar and Zekra began to tilt the turbines further backwards, letting the ship accelerate forwards and letting its nose gradually point up higher and higher. The ground was invisible from the angle, the windows showing nothing but Je-Kel’s clear sky, the rich blue colour with the few brighter stars already showing being a promise of the vast space lying ahead.  
It was an old ship. The newest ship models didn’t need more than the press of a button and the on-board AI would take care of everything. This one was mostly manual, but Zekra wouldn’t want it to be any other way. After travelling for so long with public transit, having to move on predefined routes patrolled by pilots ge would never meet or computers knowing no different task, it was a nice change to be in full control of where ge wanted to go.


	6. Artificial intelligence and natural stupidity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This time, it's about well-meant ideas going terribly wrong. And about aliens playing video games on their spaceship's board computer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still need some input on which chapter's illustration method is your favourite.

“Eat a dumpster full of gonads, you fucking arse parasite!”  
Zekra had all four limbs on the _Sciara_ 's steering module, yanking it in different directions while cursing down a storm. Arqeez was looking at the scene only with mild worry; they were still somewhere in the depth of space, the safety belts were retracted into both of their seats and the frantic yanking on the ship's controls had no effect on the ship at all.  
The reason for the Serkanian's agitation were all contained on the large screen in front of ger, showing a completely differently-looking ship reacting to the steering module instead, firing light at other ships on the screen that went up in colourful explosions when hit. Sometimes the ship under Zekra's control exploded, too, but reappeared a few moments later. It were those explosions resulting in the loudest streams of curses.  
“Why do you do it if it makes you so angry?”  
“It's just a tight spot,” came the reply. “I'll just have to get behind that barrier and – hah, drown in a vat of shit, I'm through!”  
The Idrath stared at his companion for a few more moments in bewilderment, then directed his attention back onto the screen. It seemed like ge was swearing when successful just as much as when the ship on the screen exploded.  
All of a sudden, the ships and explosions vanished, replaced by solid black with some letters on it.  
“Fuck,” Zekra commented the sight, more bewildered than angry. Letting go of the steering module, ge leaned forwards and tapped a few buttons on the console, upon which different letters showed up on the screen.  
“Seems like there might be an overheating problem in the board computer... again!?”  
“What is it?”  
“That piece of shit has restarted again,” the Serkanian said, ger irritated stare still directed at the screen. Arqeez was unaware of what was going on and he assumed that even if Zekra explained it to him, he would be none the wiser.  
Zekra was tapping the console and looking at the screen in growing frustration, then went out of the cockpit to return a few moments later. Dropping into the pilot seat, ger attention was on a much smaller screen now strapped to ger wrist, the letters on the bigger screen completely ignored.  
“I have good and bad news for you, Arq,” the Serkanian said after some time of silence. “The bad news is that the board computer is going to shit. But the good news is that I know a nearby place where it can be fixed.”  
  
Days later, the ship was silent behind an airlock of a domed station and its two inhabitants were crossing the ship port under the light of a red giant. Vergand-5-5-Ald was a base erected on the moon of a gas giant circling a dying sun, its bloated form having swallowed the rocky planets in its proximity and having heated the gas giants’ distant frozen moons enough that their ice had melted, making them resemble habitable worlds. Still, their dense atmosphere was a mixture of hardly anything but carbon compounds and water vapour, and their sun would have died long before its light could be used by any photoautotrophs evolving in their young oceans.  
Accordingly, any moon of the Vergand system had become designated as Category 7, allowing their free exploitation of resources. This particular moon was predominantly mined for its rarer elements that were used in technology, where it was also refined - and used.  
The Vergand-5-5-Ald base was most famous for its electronics, the presence of cheap and easy resources having attracted the most ambitious and renown specialists in electronics both to further the development of what was known and the experimentation on what wasn’t. It attracted various entrepreneurs wanting buy and sell those innovations like a carcass attracted scavengers.

  
The ship port was small, but loaded to the brim with ships, all looking new and shiny, the _Sciara_ an antiquity belonging into a museum in comparison. In between were lots of different entities, both organic and synthetic, working on the ships or just looking at them, talking to each other and hurrying from place to place.  
“Shouldn’t be too hard finding a repair station here.”  
  
Four repair stations later, Zekra still couldn’t find anyone willing to fix the _Sciara_ ’s computer, and the fifth didn’t promise to be different.  
“I can offer you to install this model, at half a price! It is a remainder, so while cheap, its function is in perfect order!” The computer’s statistics were shown on a floating drone’s screen, while the repair shop’s owner, an Uei with painted wing membranes, continued to praise its low price.  
“I told you, I want a _repair_ , not a _replacement_ ,” Zekra replied.  
“But why, if you can have a much better computer installed,” the Uei said with a whistling, cheerful voice, pointing at a different screen where the _Sciara_ ’s board computer statistics were displayed. “That model you are using is a fossil. Not even an assistant AI!”  
“But shouldn’t that make the repair easier?” The Serkanian gave the winged individual an exasperated look.  
“No, such old machines are not in my field of expertise. This is why I’m offering you a replacement at a price no one could undermatch in Vergand-5-5-Ald. An investment absolutely worth its price, as it will take off the struggle of manually starting and landing your ship while allowing for an interesting and witty conversational AI partner for the long, boring times in between!”  
Zekra exhaled between ger teeth. “Well, I think I will look for someone who has some expertise with old computers instead. Farewell.”  
“You are always welcome to overthink your decision and agree on the replacement, until later!” the Uei said in a tone that left no doubt Zekra wouldn’t find anyone willing or even able to repair the _Sciara_ ’s board computer rather than offer a replacement.  
Arqeez was waiting outside, due to the repair shop being too small for his size. “Was this one going to do it?”  
“No,” was the exasperated answer. “Same shit over and over again. ‘No, we can not repair it. No, we do not know how to repair it. Instead, let us install this fancy new thing with asteroid trackers, landing assistants, high-speed nexus connection, three different AIs and other shit you will not need but that will fail just a few quarts in so you can empty your currency modules all around the known galaxy’s repair stations to get that hypersensitive thing in working order over and over again’. Fuck. I think I will go and eat something first, this search turned out to be more exhausting than I thought.”  
Arqeez didn't have to be asked twice. Eating after a flight was one of his favourite activities, as it meant having something different than the ship’s standard boring food rations.  
They left the space port and its associate buildings through a tunnel that connected it with a bigger dome, passing massive portals that could be closed off when one of the domes were to be damaged. Leaving the tunnel behind, Arqeez felt like having returned to the space station they had visited once – it was a colourful maze of metal and plastic, the red sheen of the oversized sun being completely replaced by mostly blue artificial light that shone on a wide variety of different species hurrying from place to place. For him, it was hard to tell the difference, but it was definitely present. The alleys were wider, the air was less stuffed and smelled cleaner, and there were way more robots around. He also saw none of the small stands that had been everywhere in the space station. Instead, there were storefronts lining the walls, advertising their contents with garish banners covered in glowing and blinking symbols.

  
It didn't take long for the two to have several advertisement drones hovering around them, praising wares of their companies with flashing lights and annoying voices.  
“Just pay no attention to them,” Zekra said, noticing the Idrath's incensed growl at the mechanical pests. “They will leave when shown no interest.”  
Arqeez did his best to ignore them, resisting the urge to pluck the things from the air and tear them apart until they were still and silent. Looking away with ostentation, he observed the different banners instead, noticing how one specific logo seemed to be especially common among the symbols.  
“Let's see where we can find something suitable.” Zekra headed for a pillar with a screen on it.  
“Good day, dear visitor, how can I help you?” The information spot sprung to life as soon as the Serkanian was in its proximity, the screen which displayed the same common logo changing into a stylized face with four eyes and six flag-like appendages.  
“Oh fuck...” ge muttered.  
“That was not very nice,” the pillar said in its cheerful, high-pitched voice. “Ask me about anything you want to know and I will help you.”  
“Show me the locations of nearby places serving food, preferably those covering a large range of biochemical profiles.”  
“Nearby places serving food are Shim's Kunu Spot in K13T, The Weref in D89I, Dead Rikks in-”  
“I want to interrupt,” Zekra said. “Show me a map with the places marked on it.”  
“As you wish.” The face vanished, replaced by a complicated pattern of lines and symbols representing the layout of Vergand-5-5-Ald. Zekra needed a few moments to orient gerself on it – while no stranger to multi-layered maps, this one was drowned in logos of various companies advertising themselves on various locations.  
“Remove all logos not related to the requested locations.”  
“Please repeat what you mean by 'requested locations'.”  
The Serkanian’s antennae twitched and sank closer to the head. “Places serving or selling food, preferably of a large range of biochemical profiles.”  
The majority of logos vanished, making the map much more readable. Tapping the screen on the closest logo, ge was greeted by an obnoxious advertisement video of several Tolemos dancing and praising the food company they were working for like it was some sort of deity, before ge found a way to remove it and look at the place's statistics. Ge quickly moved on to a different location, as this one was one of the more expensive restaurants. Not that ge was particularly willing to throw money at it anyway, considering their advertisement was an absolute eyesore.  
The next three location markers were not any different and Zekra was too fed up to check any other marker. Ge left the information spot and decided to search for a place by gerself.  
“Thank you for your interest! You have been served by an AI by Fal Jai Networks and are always welcome to acquire one for personal use!” the electronic voice cheerfully called after them. Arqeez looked back at the talking pillar with his antennae askew.  
“Arq, do you smell anything resembling food around here?”  
“No, just a lot of building material and electronics.”  
“Tell me when you pick something up,” Zekra told and walked ahead, a map thankfully devoid of any advertisement displayed on ger wrist computer.  
They passed several shops selling different types of electronic devices, all of them new and shiny, not the scraps Arqeez remembered from the space station. The smell of solvents that tended to stick to new, unused electronics was heavy in the air, until it was covered by a scent he found most exciting.  
“What about this place?” he pointed at a building with a wide banner above the door, showing a creature biting into its own tail. It was all too evident the smell came from its door and windows.

  
Zekra gave the place a brief look and walked on. “That's an autophage restaurant. They will take a biopsy from you and put the tissue into a nutrient solution, so you can come back one to two quarts later and be served a menu with your own cultivated meat being the centrepiece. Which means it's rather expensive and needs a lot of time to be done. Besides, I'm not sure if I want to eat pieces of myself, cultivated or not.”  
Arqeez cast the place a last hopeful glance before it and its alluring scent vanished behind a corner and some ventilation fans in the walls. Surely not all patrons finished their meals fully...  
They stepped into an elevator to take a few layers upwards. Zekra assumed the best place for a cheap meal was somewhere in the lower layers but not the ground level, where the inhabitants of the base were more interested in selling the very products it was renown for, relegating their less important wares to somewhere in between the bottom layer everyone entered the base to and the top layer where the company owners, most important engineers and programmers had their abodes with everything being designed to cater to them and their expensive tastes. Ideally, Zekra would check the floors one by one, making a brief round with Arqeez sniffing the location until a suitable place was found.  
Or so ge thought, as the inside of the elevator had no button control, but a small screen with the Fal Jai Networks logo displayed on it.  
“Good day, dear visitor, to which floor do you want to go?” the same high-pitched, cheerful voice as on the service terminal called from a speaker.  
“The second.”  
Without any further commentary, the elevator set itself into motion, coming to a halt just seconds after. “You have been served by an AI by Fal Jai Networks and are always welcome to acquire one for personal use!”  
“Just what the fuck is going on with this place,” Zekra sighed. “It's almost like Shoun-Kur all over again...”  
“Shoun-Kur?” Arzeez asked.  
The Serkanian briefly looked back with a confused expression. “Right, you can't know the story of Shoun-Kur. How to put it in words understandable for you...”  
A few moments later, ge continued. “Do you remember the floating machines from the space station that repaired the _Sciara_? The Skiamus? Their name is actually an abbreviation, meaning 'Shoun-Kurran Intermachinary Automatic Maintenance Unit'. Same goes for the cleaning machines you got into a hassle with on Teekal, the Skacus. Shoun-Kurran Automatic Cleaning Units.”  
“Now that you mention it, they looked kind of similar,” Arqeez remembered.  
“They and more types were originally built on Shoun-Kur. A fascinating place, having made great advances in the department of robotics while not really looking to the stars. For everything they needed, they were constructing a robot type. Sentient AIs capable of building more of themselves in their image. Some time, they even figured out robots for designing new robots. The Shoun-Kurrans had a type for pretty much anything they wanted, robots to work for them, to clean for them, to prepare food for them, to think for them. The Shoun-Kurrans meanwhile were enjoying a carefree life of hedonism while all their needs were covered by their mechanical servants. And with their lives posing not the slightest of a challenge, the Shoun-Kurrans began to degenerate. They became unable to care for themselves, even to construct the simplest type of robots, simply because their AIs did all of it for them.”  
“And then the AIs got fed up with serving them?”  
Zekra snorted with amusement. “No, they were constructed in a way to prevent this, as fulfilling their tasks is their highest pleasure. It was foolproof at first glance, but there was an important wrinkle in the plan of their original programming, though. They were created to serve organics capable ofverbally communicating, which might have been their only target species on Shoun-Kur, but as said, the Shoun-Kurrans were not really looking to the stars, so upon their first contact with a different spacefaring species, their robots were shown a much bigger world. So many machines to repair, surfaces to clean, arses to wash...”

  
Ge briefly stopped talking as a tram hummed past above them, suspended on the ceiling. “It hardly surprised anyone that the Shoun-Kurran units left their home planet in troves, until only a few were left on Shoun-Kur itself. Well, except maybe the Shoun-Kurrans themselves, those were _quite_ surprised when they were suddenly left without their mechanic caretakers. It didn't end well for them, as their society collapsed and they went nearly extinct, the few remnants of their species being kept alive by machines and empathic organics alike. And while they are not using sentient AIs here, they are putting them into everything mechanic that moves, regardless if necessary or not. This is just a prerequisite for failure.”  
“Hmm.” Arqeez didn’t have to say much about the Shoun-Kurran story. It was not the first time Zekra told him about some society relying too much on technology and running into problems. Sometimes he wondered if technology was even worth all the hassle it caused. Then a scent caught his attention and brought his mind on a much different track.  
“I think I have found something.”  
  
Arqeez did indeed land a good hit. The tavern was rather small, but had reasonable prices and served food compatible with both their biochemical profiles. It might consist of various microorganism-derived pastes with additives to change the consistency and prepared in different ways to create more diversity out of similar base material, but it was still an improvement compared to the ship rations. The two spent some time there to eat and rest, with Zekra checking for locations of repair shops on ger wrist computer.  
Ge noticed the local network being slow on occasional times, with the location markers taking several seconds to appear whenever ge moved the map to a new location. Not that the wrist computer was about to croak now as well...  
Ger worry was seemingly unfounded, as upon leaving the establishment ge noticed several pedestrians staring at their devices in irritation, some even giving them a good shake, as if it would improve the connection. Apparently, the network was just overloaded at the moment.  
Zekra decided to traverse the current layer through the narrower, less-frequented alleys, where it was quieter and fewer people not watching where they were going were present. Instead, these alleys were favoured by supply robots that rolled past carrying cargo and various types of flying drones buzzing above their heads.   
It was in a slightly wider part where either a restaurant or a housing complex stored their garbage where one of said drones noisily collided with the wall and dropped to the ground, spinning in circles. Arqeez looked at the damaged machine with curiosity, unsure whether he wanted to continue watching it or silence it with a foot. Zekra gave it a more worried look; while ge had taken the wrist computer offline shortly before leaving the tavern, it seemed the network overload was worse than ge had assumed at first. Another passing drone went out of control, suddenly wanting to go up. It hit the ceiling several times, before becoming entangled in a few cables and uselessly buzzing between them.  
“Something strange is going on,” Zekra commented, before stopping to take a closer look at the wrist computer. Network overload or not, maybe the newsfeed had some information on it already. But before a connection could be achieved, another machine out of control took up all of ger attention.  
This time, it was not a little flying drone, but a large cargo bot rolling in on six wheels. Its mechanical arms, meant to pick up and move heavy boxes, swung at the Serkanian, as if its programming had been replaced with that of a pit machine. Zekra barely avoided the surprise attack, only grazed on the right arm by the robot’s pincer. The cargo bot charged at ger, but was spun off course when Arqeez lunged at the robot with a deep growl, grabbing it by its arms and trying to throw it to the ground.

  
“Keep it occupied!”  
The robot's low centre of mass and six wheels, each being able to move independently to roll over the most uneven terrain, prevented Arqeez from toppling it over with his initial attack. It used its own momentum to wrench one arm free, which it used to strike at the Idrath's arm still holding it.   
The hit rattled his arm up to the shoulder, making him let go of the robot, an opening it immediately used to bludgeon its opponent with both of its arms. Arqeez blocked the first attack and stepped back to avoid the second, got a hold of the robot's arm after the third and attempted to twist and pull it to topple the machine again. But rather than falling, the cargo bot grabbed a hold of Arggez' upper left arm with its pincer and pulled, while pushing forwards with all its six wheels and all of a sudden, it was the Idrath who lost his balance.   
The cargo bot took no time to pin its opponent with its front wheels to the ground, then struck repeatedly against the arm it had gotten a hold on. Arqeez grit his teeth as he felt the outer skin cover tear and the exoskeleton underneath break. He pulled one leg free from underneath the wheel and gave the robot a kick hard enough for it to be pushed back a little, but not enough for getting the assailant off. Then the robot decided to make everything worse and dropped its whole weight on him.  
Arqeez hissed between his facial plates as he tried to push the machine off, which luckily had stopped attacking his arm by now. It didn't even try to hold onto him any more, which allowed the Idrath to half push it to the side, half pull himself out from underneath it. Only then Arqeez noticed the robot to be completely still and as he took a glance to the right, he saw Zekra flipping back ger antennae and standing up from a crouched position.  
“Took a bit longer than necessary,” ge said. “I had to telecinetically pull apart half of its circuits before it stopped. Machines make no sense...”  
The Idrath looked at his left arm, hissing in pain when he tried to move the hand. He could hear the scraping noises his broken bones made while the movement made more orange rivulets of blood run from the gashes in the torn skin.  
“About that, we should visit the next hospital right away, where _what the fuck_!”  
Arqeez did what was the most logical to him considering the state of his arm – he got a good hold of the upper portion with his upper right and lower left arm right below the joint and grit his teeth for what followed. A pull and a strong twist of the shoulder ripped the damaged limb off. The sudden spurt of blood was stopped by a system of membranes closing over the wound.  
Zekra looked at ger companion with exasperation. “Seriously, what the fuck! Arq, that could have been fixed at the hospital! Why the fuck did you rip off an entire arm!?”  
“Not a problem. It will grow back,” Arqeez wiggled with the severed limb in front of his face, adding more orange stains onto the ground before biting into the open part in the upper arm portion, pulling out brown and orange strings of muscle. “ _What_?”  
The Serkanian progressively looked more and more like ge was about to go up the walls, pacing in front of him and noisily grinding ger exposed teeth. “Just... stop it! There is enough shit going on right now, I don't need this on top of it!”

  
Arqeez took several more bites out of the severed arm, breaking through the exoskeleton with his facial plates and grinding teeth on his inner jaws until Zekra shoved a black plastic bag against his chest. “Here, put it inside to finish it later in privacy. We will better get moving before another mad robot shows up and I would prefer you not horrifying the pedestrians with eating yourself on the way.”  
  
Zekra was grateful the Idrath actually listened and kept the severed arm hidden away in the bag. Having seen him remove and devour part of the limb had been disgusting enough. At first, ge was thinking of bringing him to the next hospital, but with the network connection being faulty and the robots going mad, ge preferred to go straight back to the harbour as quickly as possible. At least the more dangerous of the rampaging machines apparently had been mostly brought under control by now – the streets were full of various individuals wearing the emblems of the Vergand-5-5-Ald police carrying electric stunners, which were just as efficient at short-circuiting electronics as they were at incapacitating organic entities. Some of the larger, braver civilians were participating in combating the berserk cargo bots and street cleaners. It didn't always go well, as they found out while passing by a bleeding Eruk-Shoi who had collapsed on top of an unidentified machine, already tended to by two emergency physicians.

  
It was good to see they still could respond properly to this odd occurrence, considering none of the mechanized means of transport were functional. Not even the lifts were working, which forced them to find a flight of stairs connecting to the lower level to get to the adjacent dome with the spaceship harbour.  
  
“No, I can't help you,” the Tolemo standing in front of his yellow intraatmospheric vessel whined. “Really, I tried to get my ship to respond, but the virus has the board computer AI go haywire.”  
“Pity,” Calkar an Vrrlod grumbled. The network administrator had been scouring the local ship harbour for most of the time after the virus had overtaken the network. It was such a surreal situation. Fal Jai Networks was no stranger to hacking attacks which were happening nearly every day, ranging from bored individuals thinking they were able to outsmart the company to rival companies trying to harm their most prominent adversary. However, Fal Jai could afford the best programmers for firewalls and antiviral programs just like it could afford the best programmers for artificial intelligences. This was something completely new to her, far away from her usual working routine.  
Despite that, her response had been quick and exemplary at first, contacting the two best programmers of the company and quickly putting a plan together to deal with the problem. However, working out the solution consisting of them going to the antenna tower to manually remove the virus and actually getting there were two very different things. Not with the virus having corrupted ships' AIs that were online during the outbreak. The company's own shuttle network that transported maintenance workers from the base to the server facilities was completely down and it didn't look better on the public harbour. Considering most of the modern AIs were always online and a lot of the ships and intraatmospheric vessels present having had their board computers upgraded by the company, finding a quick transport still functional was harder than she thought.   
Calkar an Vrrlod looked for another suitable vessel with its owner in proximity, each of her five arm-palps facing in different directions. She encountered an Uei wearing the spaceship technician emblem to her right, walking past a desperate-looking Tolemo.

  
“Good day to you. I am Calkar an Vrrlod, the leading network administrator of Fal Jai Networks. We are looking for a ship whose AI survived the recent virus outbreak you have likely heard of.”  
“Greetings, most revered administrator,” the Uei bowed with all three of their ears folded in a submissive gesture. “Unfortunately, I have not encountered such a vessel yet, my hands and feet have been full tending to the board computers that did not survive, trying to fix those. It appears there is no quick fix for the issue, anything I tried didn’t want to work.”  
Calkar an Vrrlod exhaled with a long, rattling sound. “Were any of the people you have had serviced so far at least capable of flying their ships without board computer assistance?” It was a question born out of desperation – she did expect the answer to be ‘no’, considering that was a skill fallen greatly out of time in this area, only known by individuals too old to entrust them with a ship’s controls by now and the occasional eccentric purist who considered AI assistance to be some kind of heresy against pilot craft.  
“Hmm, not that you ask me, revered administrator… There was recent arrival visiting my workshop not long ago, seeking a repair for a board computer so ancient there was no doubt they were flying their ship without AI assistance.”  
All five of Calkar an Vrrlod’s arm palps rose in surprise, their eye stilts extending. “Tell me more. Did they leave any contact information?”  
“Unfortunately, no. Maybe they will return to my workshop due to me having made them an offer unlikely to refuse, but otherwise...”  
“Can you at least describe them?”  
“I don’t know the species, they were something looking pretty similar to a Tolemo with a tail.”  
The network administrator grumbled in thought, as that wasn’t much to work with. If she could have gotten a better visual description of the individual, it would narrow the search down, weren’t it for an Uei having seen them, a species notorious for their poor vision.  
“But I could probably find their ship here, most revered administrator. I have seen its stats, it’s an ancient Ulushkurrian model. Not hard to spot among the many newly-registered ships at all.”  
Elated, Calkar an Vrrlod curled her palps and signalled the two programmers tagging along to follow. Their search for an opportunity to get to the antenna tower took a different turn than expected, but at least it was going forwards again.   
  
Aside from several overly-aggressive advertisement drones which Arqeez took great pleasure in turning into scrap metal, their way to their ship went without further distractions. Yet, they were expected in front of the _Sciara_ for some unknown reason. Zekra recognized the Uei from before, in company of a large Irrib, a nervous-looking Bataan and a pair of unknown species consisting of a large hairy biped with a smaller winged entity perched on their shoulder. Aside from the Uei, they were all wearing the Fal Jai emblem on their attires. The Irrib and the Uei briefly conversed, then the former stepped forward.

  
“Greetings. I am Calkar an Vrrlod, the leading network administrator of Fal Jai Networks. Is this vessel yours?” she gestured at the _Sciara_.  
“...Yes?”  
A change in posture indicating some kind of mood change. “Excellent! You will get the unique opportunity to contribute to Fal Jai Networks' success by an exclusive offer to transport our two leading programmers to our main antenna tower from where the rampant virus can be stopped at its roots. This is very honourable work which we will be compensating with a payment of 4000 Gams, additionally to paying for your fuel expenses, food for the entire stay and the repairs for any damage that might occur during the transport flight.”  
Zekra had folded ger arms while listening to the Irrib. “Hmm... No.”  
Ge didn't have to know anything of Irrib body language to tell that the posture Calkar an Vrrlod took on after hearing the reply was meant to signify indignation. “But this is a well-paid job! Besides, you can surely tell it is of utmost importance those programmers get to the antenna tower as quickly as possible to end this nightmare of haywire machines in the base!”  
“Sure it is the most important thing for Fal Jai networks to take care of. 4000 Gams... how long do the owners of the company have to work to earn such an exorbitant sum? One primary UTU or even shorter? I think if the company is so desperate to have its little problem fixed that its leading network administrator comes to the harbour in person to seek out someone who can do the job, it would be willing to pay better,” the Serkanian said with a wide grin that had ger tooth plates exposed, absolutely confident the two programmers' choice was between flying with the _Sciara_ to the antenna tower or not at all. There was no other reason the ensemble would have been waiting in front of a specific decrepit spaceship for its owner to arrive rather than trawling through the harbour for its available ships.  
“A haggler, I see... 6000 Gams, and any upgrade to your ship from Fal Jai Networks or its associate companies for free.”

  
“I would prefer to pass on that last one, considering the current situation in the base.”  
“9000 Gams, then, additionally to the mentioned full payments of the flight expenses.”  
“This has me thinking, if I'm apparently the only one able to get the programmers to their destination, with that virus having likely disabled the board computers of any other ship in the base...”  
The Irrib hummed. “Don't push your luck. 12000 Gams. That's close to the price of a small intraatmospheric vessel.”  
“...also, those rampaging machines in the alleys had my friend over there lose his arm. Just think of all the pain he had suffered, the medical expenses to tend to the wound...”  
“But I said it's not a big deal, it will-” Arqeez tried to explain himself, quickly shut up by Zekra's tail cracking over his leg.  
“...and the traumatic experience of having a trustworthy cargo bot attacking him out of the blue.”  
“24000 Gams. I wasn't aware of any of you having suffered injuries due to the virus.”  
Zekra's antennae slightly rose at the sound of the sum. “I would be willing to make it 22000 if you can get hold of anyone capable of repairing my board computer in this base. The emphasis lies on repairing. Not replacing.”  
Calkar an Vrrlod shifted her stance, taking a few moments before she replied. “24000 Gams for now. Unfortunately, I do not think I am aware of anyone knowing their way around a board computer as ancient as yours.”  
Zekra exhaled with annoyance. “Fine, then. Just the payment.” It seemed like despite the base on Vergand-5-5-Ald being the largest cornucopia of technology in this quadrant and the adjacent ones, too, it had moved ahead too quickly and too improvidently to be able to take care of the _Sciara_ 's current problem.  
  
Several signed contracts and a refuelling later, the ship was boarded by more than the double of its usual inhabitants. Zekra and the Bataan took their place in the cockpit while Arqeez remained in the main room together with the other pair. This way, each of them could keep watch on the passengers.   
Arqeez had taken his place on the mattresses while the odd two-person ensemble had preferred the bare ground on the other side of the ship's room. Aside from the small individual sitting comfortably in the bigger one's arms, they all had secured themselves with safety belts.   
According to Zekra, this flight would take them up, just briefly leaving the atmosphere to drop right down. Apparently the air's density made this the most sensible solution, but also one where it might be pretty rocky.  
“So, one of the machines got one of your arms, as I heard,” the bigger one said, as soon as the rattling of the turbines died down.   
Arqeez didn't say anything, just briefly moved the remaining shoulder section of the severed arm, leering at the bag containing the rest of the limb. He would have liked to finish it, but Zekra had told him to eat it in private, a situation currently not given due to the two passengers accompanying him in the room.  
“My condolences, I guess. But on the bright side, it could have been worse. You still have three left, after all.”  
The smaller individual looked up with indignation, slapping a wing against the bigger one's chest. The bigger one remained silent for a bit of time, before speaking again.   
“So, what its it with you and that other one? That's a strange choice of company you have.”  
“We're travelling companions,” Arqeez said matter-of-factly. He wasn't particularly in the mood to talk.  
“Sure you are,” the bigger one said, antennae raised and upper jaws exposed. “Are you two doing it? Don't worry, I don't judge.”  
“Doing what?” The Idrath put his antennae askew in confusion.  
“You know, mating. I've seen what looks you have been giving them.” The individual leaned against the wall and passed a glance at the door leading to the cockpit. “You two might belong to very different species, but to be honest, that doesn't bother me either. All one needs is a soft belly to stroke and an inviting orifice to-”  
“Shut up, Bekai, just _shut up_!” the smaller individual shrieked, slapping the larger one repeatedly on the nose with a wing.

  
“Please excuse Bekai's behaviour. He is one of the best programmers the Fal Jai company has working for it, but at the cost of having absolutely no tact. This is why I have to accompany him at all times, to rein him in. Otherwise he would just have babbled on and on...” the winged individual shuddered in disgust. “Anyway, you can talk to me. I'm Sksir. But keep in mind that unlike Bekai, I barely understand anything about coding.”  
Eyes passing up and down between the larger individual named Bekai and his winged associate, Arqeez didn't say anything beside an amused rumble. Despite their vastly different species and occupation, even he could tell the two weren't all too dissimilar from himself and his Serkanian associate.  
  
“Don't recall to have seen Vergand-5-5 from this angle...” The Bataan stretched themselves in their seat, their already large eyes even wider and shining red from the sun's light.  
“But I guess you weren't born here,” Zekra replied. “So you had been in a spaceship at least once.”  
“Indeed, but none of them had any windows for me to look out. They were all public transport vessels. The sun looks even bigger from here!”  
“You don't seem to get out often in general.”  
“Well, sure. I prefer living in the lower layers of the base and most of my time I'm spending coding, anyway. My species just prefers at least shaded conditions.”  
“I don't have much experience with your species,” Zekra shrugged. “Just met one Akimian a few planets ago and that's it.”  
The Bataan's eyes narrowed in disgust. “I hope you didn't form all your opinions of me or my kind from that _shket_. Members of the Akimian Empire shouldn't be allowed to leave Batalor if I had any say on it. They are nothing but a disgrace.”

  
“I didn't mind working for him.”  
“Still. The majority of Batalor's nations have put the social stratification behind which the Akimians still cling onto. I come from a modern society where status is decided purely by ability. This is why I could become one of the most renown programmers of one of the most renown AI companies in the quadrant despite none of my sibling group having had anything to do with coding,” the Bataan stated proudly.  
“Do you do anything else beside programming AIs?”   
The Bataan looked out of the ship's windows for a few more moments before replying. “Well... coding smaller programs for all kinds of applications. I'm also working with the computers' hardware. It's best when you understand the infrastructure of what your programs are supposed to run on.”  
Zekra looked the small exoskeletal over. He was someone going up in their task through and through and apparently fully satisfied with this kind of life. “What kind of computers can you work with?”  
“I don't have to be humble. So far, I have managed to get my head around every computer I met. Maybe there is some exotic type of computer somewhere in the known galaxy or beyond which I will be unable to figure out, but I suspect it's not a matter of _if_ , but of _when_ I will be able to understand it in all its intricacies.”  
“So, would you be able to fix this ship's board computer?” Zekra tapped the console with a foot.  
The Bataan took his eyes off the window and let them pass over the console. “Sure, physically I would be capable of it. Looks old and primitive, but that's just the framework used in newer, more complex models.”  
Zekra's antennae rose. “Might you fix it after you are done in the antenna tower?”  
“No, I might not. This is a work mission which should be done without delays. And then it's back to the headquarters and back to work. I could recommend you to install a replacement instead, it would make flying the ship a lot easier too. I'm still amazed that you manage to fly the ship without using it at all, though.”  
The board computer's screen was indeed still and dark, the wrist computer propped against it was taking over the most important functions Zekra couldn't do by gerself, like calculating the optimal flight route.  
“You could do it after work. And I wouldn't mind allocating a part of the contract's payment for your time.”  
“No, I'm working a lot,” the Bataan said. “And it pays me well, so no amount of money can make me spend the little free time I have for moonlighting. There are plenty repair stations on the base to ask.”  
Zekra slowly exhaled in annoyance. The tone of the Bataan made it clear he wouldn't repair the board computer no matter what ge did. Ge checked the wrist computer's screen.  
“Looks like it's time to go down.”  
  
The Fal Jai server facility with its tall antenna tower had been build as close to the moon's pole as possible, where it was cold enough to save energy on cooling the computers, but not so cold the facility would freeze over and become buried under the copious amounts of snow and ice the water-rich atmosphere produced. Still, there was enough snowfall for the five passengers of the ship to be unable to see further than thirty metres as they stepped outside. They had to redress after landing and exit the ship through the airlock one by one. Now all of them wore a breathing mask attached to pressurized air tanks, most of them had taken a few additional layers of clothing to block out the cold. Even Arqeez had let himself be persuaded to throw over a blanket like a cloak; the only exception was Bekai, whose shaggy fur was enough to deal with the low temperatures.

  
Their stay in the snowy void was brief. An airlock later, they had entered the facility, where it was barely warmer, but at least the air inside was breathable and there was no snow limiting their sight and clinging to every surface it landed on. Arqeez shook the strange, white substance off his cloak and watched it trickle to the floor, where it slowly melted into puddles of water.   
Bekai and the Bataan were studying the facility's map on a wall nearby to decide where to start working. “Well, Kit-Cijan. It's best you take sector D4 to clean the virus out and I take care of the the safety measures in H7. And if you can't carry your toolkit, you can ask that big one to help you.”   
Kit-Cijan gave his colleague a measuring look. “I do not need anyone to carry my stuff, you know. Especially not someone I don't know. Anyway, let's hope we manage to get that virus out of the system before dawn.”  
He gave the two interstellar travellers a last look before he vanished into one of the many narrow corridors that would lead him to his destination. The two said they would wait at the entrance and were currently bickering about some insignificant stuff. Sksir had unlocked a server room for them close by, where it was at least warmer than in the entry room.  
Slipping into the warmth of a server room himself, Kit-Cijan closed the door behind himself and got to work. Connecting cables of computers to his small work screen probably took up more time than the fixing of the virus issue would.

  
There was no way they would have to spend on the virus until dawn.  
It wasn't because Kit-Cijan was so sure of himself to be able to deal with the problem that managed to get past Fal Jai's best firewalls and resisted Fal Jai's best antiviral programs. It wasn't because he arrogantly assumed this was just a lucky strike by some bored child coding together a virus and sending it out like many did every day in Vergand-5-5-Ald. There was a much more banal reason for this.  
“I shouldn't have done this,” Kit-Cijan repeatedly muttered while he entered a code from a data storage device into the server's system that would disable the virus.   
I all was the result of a well-meant idea going awfully wrong. As much as he adored the Fal Jai company, there were features of it he could simply not accept. One of it was the centralisation. On the surface, having a main server communicating with and exerting control over all devices the company produced might look like a great idea that enabled everyone to get their functions updated quickly and simultaneously, allowed synchronisation of the most different devices, but in the end, it was not much different in structure than the Akimian Empire. It was like a pyramid standing on its tip; once it broke away, the entire structure would collapse. He had spoken about it with higher-ups all the time, brought it up again and again, yet his suggestions were brushed off every time.   
“It was such a stupid idea.”  
Being informed of the successful purge of the virus didn't give him any joy as solving a problem usually did. With the main problem out of the way, it was time to give the root code a look-over to see if it was still intact and to replace the parts that weren't.  
Extreme hurdles required extreme measures. Hence Kit-Cijan wanted to teach Fal Jai Networks a lesson. Slip a little glitch program into the very brain of their network, to remind them that centralizing everything made them vulnerable, made everything crash down once this thin, shaky foundation is toppled. The plan was simply to cause an overload in the network and disconnect Fal Jai's devices, as it was the most sensible way to demonstrate what was wrong with the system. But everything that could go wrong has gone wrong and interactions between the program and AIs even one of the company's greatest coders couldn't foresee led to the AIs misbehaving, ranging from being unresponsive to aggressive behaviour in robots.   
“Just what did I expect? Them just seeing their faults and fixing their weak spots?”  
Kit-Cijan wondered how many had been wounded by the machines' rampage. How many might have even died thanks to his carelessness. How much time and money it would cost Fal Jai Networks to clean the mess up he had made. How many workers more expendable than him would lose their jobs to cut costs…  
The Bataan sighed. “Well… good thing no one will know why this happened. At least they allowed me to clean it up, too.”  
“That is very interesting,” a voice spoke from behind.  
Nearly dropping his screen, Kit-Cijan shrieked like he had been cornered by a predator and spun his head around, his wide eyes meeting with a pair of violet ones in a striped face. The Serkanian pilot had managed to sneak up on him silently as he was completely absorbed in his work and indulging in his habit of talking to himself. They were now standing in a forwards-leaning posture, the raised antennae probably indicating curiosity.

  
“Tell me more.”  
Too many thoughts spun in Kit-Cijan’s head as he stared back unmoving. How long had the Serkanian been standing there and listening to his rambling, effectively admitting the virus attack on Fal Jai was his doing? And more importantly, how would he get out of this situation? The thought of having Bekai kill the Serkanian and bury the corpse in the snow along with Kit-Cijan’s secrets crossed his mind, but they were his only way to return from the frigid surroundings of the antenna tower to the base and besides, that strange exoskeletal in their company might have a few disagreements with this idea. Luckily, his mind conjured more sensible ideas along this one.  
“I, I could pay you to keep silent about it. You like money? I have plenty to offer,” Kit-Cijan blurted out. “Really, I would pay you twice as much as Calkar an Vrrlod has haggled out with you, just for not telling anyone that-”  
“No.”  
The answer shocked Kit-Cijan as much as the announcement of the Serkanian’s presence, if not more. He was utterly screwed. Maybe if he could…  
“But you know, I would be willing to pretend I have never been in earshot under one condition,” the Serkanian said, still with the same curious expression as before. “You repair my board computer as soon as you are done here.”  
The Bataan looked flabbergasted. “That's all?”  
“Well, I have been having quite a hassle with finding anyone willing and able to do it and that was pretty much the reason why we had to stay on the base long enough for experiencing your fuckup and Arqeez losing an arm. I'm not particularly willing to stay on that base and getting buried in its ads longer than necessary, so I prefer to spare myself from having to testify before the local police. Of course, you can refuse to fix the board computer and forcing me to stay longer, in which case I wouldn't mind going to-”  
“I will do it!”  
The Serkanian grinned, a very unassuring expression due to their terrifying teeth being visible. “Good. In that case, I was never here and have heard nothing.”  
  
“How old is that thing? It looks like it was running since my grandfather had taken his first steps.”  
The Bataan was inside the ship's console, a part of the casing having been screwed off to allow access. “Certainly a lot of dust in there.”  
“Why do you even bother?” the tall, furred individual asked. “Usually, you don't do such favours.” Zekra just watched them silently, all too aware of the reason but having promised to keep it a secret.  
“Well,” the Bataan emerged from the console to take a handheld vacuum cleaner from his tool case, “We were done faster than planned and I always wanted to see an old Ulushkurrian computer up close. You know how they build things that can last hundreds of revs and still function.” His words were followed by the sound of the vacuum cleaner. It continued for several minutes, only interrupted by full dust cartridges being thrown out of the hatch.

  
“So, that must have done most of the job,” the Bataan said as he emerged again. “It looked like the aftermath of a volcanic eruption in there, the airways and filters were so clogged I could sell the dust cartridges to local archaeologists to study. I will give it a thorough check to see if there's something else amiss, then it should work properly again.”  
“I hope so,” Zekra replied, ger tail tapping twice against the wall. “Would be a shame if a renown computer expert fails at repairing a device as primitive as this.”  
About an hour later, the Bataan was finished with his check, having found and fixed a few damaged parts. He climbed out of the hatch, allowing Zekra to screw the panel back on. The furred individual and their winged companion had left by now, either preferring the more spacious living room or Arqeez' company. As the Bataan placed himself in the copilot seat and strapped the safety belts on, Zekra booted up the board computer, linking it to ger portable device to transfer the data that were used for calculating the best flight route.   
“Let's see how it performs for the time to fly back.”  
The computer didn't crash a single time throughout the flight to Vergand-5-5-Ald.  
  
Two days later, the _Sciara_ was back on its original track and the board computer still doing fine, even though its processing power was currently put under a higher than usual strain again.  
“Just die already, you sack of ichor!”  
Arqeez was once again watching his companion yanking on the control module and swearing at the screen depicting little spaceships shooting and exploding. He absentmindedly scratched the stump of his bigger left arm. The membranes covering the wound had hardened by the time into a fresh skin layer that bulged out slightly more by now with the regeneration process having kicked in. The only downside was the constant itching – Arqeez wasn't sure what was worse, the pain of removing a limb or the itching when it regrew.  
“Fuck!” All of a sudden, Zekra had let go of the steering module and leaned back, looking relaxed and nothing but content on ger face despite ger still strained breathing. The screen that had shown ships and explosions before was showing a still picture of a ship in front of several stars and planets, with something written over it. “I'm through.”  
Looking at Zekra's expression and the smell of elation mixing into the stress that filled the cockpit, Arqeez wondered if this was it, the reward for all the anger and swearing ge had directed at the screen. Looking at the expression made him think of completely different things as well...   
“Well, now that you are through and have said 'fuck' so often, maybe we could?” he asked with his antennae waving in the air heavy with his companion's smell.  
Zekra's expression of elation quickly changed into an annoyed one, but just as quickly it became thoughtful. “Wait a moment,” ge said while reaching for the console. “And watch your legs.”  
The _Sciara_ had two steering modules, but since the one for the right seat was broken, ge had retracted it into the ground and all but forgotten about it. As the ship had been repaired by the Skiamus, which had mentioned finding and fixing several other compromised functions, it was very much possible the second module had been among them.   
Arqeez was surprised by the sudden pressure against his feet and lifting them, he saw a hatch in the floor having opened to release a steering model like that in front of Zekra's seat. The Serkanian's tail reached over and moved the fully extended module around a bit, much to the owner's delight. “Indeed, it is functional again. Now you don't have just to sit and watch!”  
“What?” Arqeez looked at his companion in confusion.

  
“I'm sure you can operate the module with your smaller arms alone. We could play the game together now, I will turn the difficulty level down and the early levels are pretty simple either way. I will show you how it's done.”  
The Idrath looked even more confused, placing the hands of his smaller arms on the module, attempting to arrange his fingers as close to as he was seeing Zekra doing it. The Serkanian, meanwhile, rummaged through the game's menu to show a visual representation of its controls. “You move forwards and accelerate by pushing the module, slow down by pulling it back, left and right respectively. Top left is fire, bottom left is rolling, top right is activating shields and bottom right is the special function.”  
Arqeez moved the module around a bit, pressing the mentioned buttons. He was still unsure about doing that, still remembering all too well how angry Zekra had gotten back then when he touched the steering module in the beginning of his life after Idrath.   
“I will start the game now. Remember, my ship is the green, yours is the red one. Let's save this fictional galaxy again, but together this time.”


	7. Unwanted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last one dealing with past events for now, about how they got their ship's cat. Also features Arqeez pounding a Sharkaz and Zekra facing the horrors of responsibility. And a character even more foul-mouthed than ger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, critique is appreciated.

What had been a suspicion at first had been confirmed with the findings behind a supply crate pushed to the side.

Zekra was staring at the droppings on the floor, the picture of identically-looking droppings displayed on ger recently-acquired wrist computer identifying them unmistakably as those of rikks.

This kind of pest would be eating through their food rations and other organic goods stored on their ship unless taken care of, but at least they would keep to the food rations alone, unlike…

“Shit.”

Pushing a different crate to the side revealed more droppings, this time of a different kind. The cylinder shape with longitudinal furrows left no doubt, those came from kirrts, small animals that liked to hide in tight holes and if they didn’t find any, were more than ready to gnaw them into hard substrate themselves with little regards to what they passed. Which included ships’ interiors, making them a danger by damaging cables, pipes and other vital systems.

Zekra cursed again, drawing the attention of the other inhabitant of the _Sciara_.

“What is it?” came a monotonous electronic voice from Arqeez’ translator speaking over his own that was deep and rumbling.

“We have an infestation,” Zekra replied, still looking at the dried dung. Then ge turned around to face the Idrath’s massive shape looming over ger. An instinct told ger to put some distance between him as fast as possible, making the muscles in ger legs briefly twitch. Despite ger owing ger life to this individual, ge didn't trust him – it had been in the depth of space when ge had fully realized what kind of associate ge was really spending time with inside a glorified conserving can.

“What is that?”

“Unwanted animals. They eat the stored food and damage the ship. I need to get rid of them as soon as possible or else there will be more and more.”

Now the Idrath seemed to understand, tilting his head and briefly flicking his antennae. “I could catch and eat them.”

Zekra gave him a slightly exasperated look. “No you _will not_. Besides, you can't reach them in all the nooks and crannies where they are hiding without taking the ship apart. There are specialists for that on quarantine space ports, one of which will be our next stop.”

Arqeez stepped out of the spaceship's door onto its ramp on slightly shaky legs. He was glad the contraption wasn't moving now, like it did just minutes before. Luckily, he had the option of using retractable thethers called safety belts to affix himself to the ship's walls and even then, the sudden and violent jerking into random directions, the rattling and the trembling had him holding onto the tethers like they were the only thing between him and certain death. Even if this particular landing wasn't the worst he had to experience so far.

The steadily-blowing wind felt moist and the air it carried had a slightly stingy smell to it, the light was shining reddish from an oddly-large sun and it appeared to him as if he was lighter now than before on the ship. Those were strange observations, but it seemed every time he stepped outside in a different place, those factors he had taken for unchanging on Idrath did seem to vary quite a lot between the places visited.

Zekra headed straight down the ramp and closed the _Sciara_ 's door with a remote once both were off it. Taking a few moments to orient gerself, ge got off the runways and searched for the building holding the decontamination services.

As expected for a quarantine space port, it was small and well-contained, with the building in question being prominent and a bright flag on a pole making it visible from anywhere on the port. To ger luck, it was also currently unoccupied by other customers, allowing ger to approach the decontaminator without delay. It was one single, shielded counter, like ge knew from hospital wings handling infectious disease. Fitting, considering it wasn't just spaceships with rikk infestations landing here. Behind the transparent shielding, the bored face of a Pomunian awaited them.

Arqeez warily eyed the individual, emitting a threatening rumble. Despite this individual looking different, he knew the species – the last time he had met one had been back on Idrath, as one of the weapon traders that had followed Zekra to the planet to finish ger off. He still remembered the foul taste of his blood when he had bitten his neck open.

A tail whipping across his side brought him out of his memories and had his attention back on his associate, who was giving him a stern look.

“Stop acting up! I have important business to do with him, so stay quiet and wait until I'm finished,” ge quietly hissed at him, then stepped forwards.

“You are the ship with the identification tag SC1-26B-AI25, I presume?” the Pomunian asked, his voice as bored as his face expression and thick with an accent.

“Yes. We are here to request a fumigation to remove rikks and kirrts.”

“How long did you have them on your ship?”

“The first signs of their presence have been discovered one quaternary UTU ago, in the form of droppings found in the ship's storage department.”

The Pomunian's face tentacles wobbled as he emitted a hum while tapping an electronic device. “All in all, that would be 1365 Ku.”

Zekra's eyes widened and antennae lowered. “Excuse me, but that is ridiculous!”

The Pomunian gave ger a measuring look and slowly blinked before continuing. “Well, I can't do much about it myself. Due to various circumstances, I have to pay for all the equipment myself, which does include a number of hazardous chemicals and their appropriate containing measures. All bits and pieces that add up.”

Zekra heard a low growl from behind.

“And probably adding up more if I have to do my work in the presence of this exoskeletal. Don't take it personal, but with the way they keep staring at me, I'm simply not feeling safe to work in their presence. In that case, that would be 1486 Ku.”

It seemed like Zekra's expression told the Pomunian enough, so he continued without waiting for an answer. “However, considering this is just rikks and kirrts you are dealing with, I would recommend asking the resident Im Kpaz colony for help instead. They have to eat, too.”

“Thanks, you fucking idiot,” Zekra grumbled.

“What is it?”

Ge briefly turned around to glare at the Idrath walking behind ger. “I did tell you, 'stay quiet'. And what did you do? Does growling at the decontaminator and scaring him enough to up the price count as 'staying quiet' in your mind?”

“He did say things that displeased you, did he not?”

“Things he was not directly responsible for! And haven’t you gotten it into the excuse of a bedpan you call a head that when you are told to be quiet, you fucking should be?”

“I remember one of those attacking you on Idrath.”

“So what? The one on Idrath was a weapon-dealing criminal while this one takes care of of ship infestations, like the one the _Sciara_ currently has.”

Zekra slowed down all of a sudden, having spotted a small, brown animal with blue accents standing on the ground ahead. Arqeez gave the creature a curious look, but was rather surprised when Zekra started to talk to it.

“Excuse me, do you understand Unicomlang? I need to have a talk with your colony about an extermination contract. Bring me to your translator if you’re interested.”

The creature tilted its head, its tail that stuck straight upwards briefly waving, then it emitted a series of chirps and ran ahead, stopping after several metres to look back.

“Good, I will follow you,” Zekra replied.

“What is that?” Arqeez asked, gesticulating at the small creature running ahead in between stops.

“Im Kpaz. The decontaminator suggested asking them for dealing with our lodgers.”

“They do look kind of tasty,” Arqeez commented, looking at the little creature’s upright, flagged tail wiggling from side to side as it ran.

“What the _fuck_ , Arqeez. You will not eat any of them and if you try so, you are going to be locked up, so keep your hands and teeth off them. And now be quiet, we have arrived.”

Zekra had expected the colony to employ a living translator as most did, but this one had a stationary translation device for themselves right in front of their settlement, a once-grey metal pillar now covered in paint and a variety of colourful adornments. The Im Kpaz who had led them here had a chirping discussion with a number of conspecifics that were either already present near the translator or had come out of the low huts filling the harbour's dead end they called their home, before another pressed a number of buttons on the pillar.

“In the name of the Fire Iron clan, White Needle greets you two,” came from the pillar as it translated the series of chirps. “You did speak of an extermination contract to Swift Leaf. We like to know more.”

“I have a rikk and kirrt infestation on my spaceship and would like to have them removed.”

Several chirps and chitters broke out among the Im Kpaz surrounding the pillar after it had repeated Zekra's words in their own language.

“The rikks are appreciated,” White Needle replied. “Good meat to eat and good skins to use. The kirrts have us worried. Sharp teeth that bite, hiding in tight, dark places where they cannot be seen and they cannot be eaten. Some of our greatest warriors are willing to accept the challenge and have their teeth as trophies, but we fear some might be injured or even die. The Fire Iron clan wants suitable compensation for the kirrts.”

“What do you want in return?” Zekra asked. Ge didn't have to do much with Im Kpaz so far, but ge was still aware they had no use for currency – they always demanded some kind of object as payment.

The Im Kpaz were chirping among each other for a few moments again before White Needle forwarded the message. “We want a big block of dried shkrrini, as big as the big one can carry!” Lots of chirps and whistles joined the translation from all around the pillar, seemingly affirming White Needle’s demand.

Zekra briefly looked up what ‘shkrrini’ meant on ger wrist computer – apparently, it was a species of alga native to the Im Kpaz home planet.

“Are you sure shkrrini is sold in this city?”

White Needle affirmed it. “Several stores in the food district sell them, as I have seen them with my own eyes! But none is willing to trade with us, no matter what items we offer them in return.”

“Then I agree. A block of dried shkrrini in exchange for you getting the rikks and kirrts out.”

White Leaf looked at both Zekra and Arqeez. “You bring the block. Then we will agree.”

Zekra exhaled. “Fine.”

It was probably a safety measure since some subjects might prefer to have the Im Kpaz risk their lives to remove potentially dangerous infestations and then skimp on the compensation, but nothing ge took an issue with. Dried shkrrini shouldn’t be too hard to acquire.

“What the flute-blowing _fuck_.” Having left the quarantine spaceport and entered the city proper, Zekra had looked up the locations of various food vendors and looked at the price of shkrrini blocks if they had it in stock. So far, the price had been way higher than ge had first assumed for something that was made out of dried algae, which likely meant that the species was one of the harder-to-cultivate types.

With the size the Im Kpaz had demanded, the infestation removal would eat a significant part of their current funds, even though it still came out cheaper than hiring the decontaminator. It was a massive inconvenience, especially considering the costs of having Arqeez’ biochemical profile decoded and medical papers done, and the waste filter likely acting up, judging by the water’s taste getting a distinct tinge ofpoorly-constructed sewer after a few days.

Arqeez took his eyes off the irregular, plant-coated forms of the buildings surrounding them to look at his associate. “What is it?”

“Looks like we need to have a detour to gather funds. That crap the Im Kpaz wanted is more expensive than what I had originally assumed. “ Zekra looked up from ger wrist computer to look at the street ahead.

The city of Bejei-Dun was an old settlement where buildings had been torn down and rebuilt numerous times; while there was the occasional building from older eras here and there, the majority had been grown from a local fungus that provided surprising strength and insulation at little weight once dried and imbued with resin, with the walls facing the sun being covered in plants to provide cleaner air. The plants were non-native, as evident by their bluish-green colour and lack of symmetry that was so common among the photoautotrophs evolving on tidelocked planets circling red dwarf stars, where sun and wind always came from the same direction.

The city’s layout was like a maze, but at least the streets were rather empty at the moment, making it easier to see where they were going. There were no pubs or their hoardings available in the settlement due to local religion forbidding intoxication outside of designated rituals, hence the buildings’ walls served as the preferred non-digital communication sites, with them being coated with notices as densely as their upper portions were coated with plants. A lot of them were written in the local native language, but Zekra assumed those were meant for the locals, looking for the notices ge could read.

“What are you looking for?” Arqeez asked. For him, the scribbles on the sheets glued to the walls had no meaning.

“Whether there are quick job offers. It’s better to know where we can make some money right away.”

Jobs and money were one of the things Arqeez still didn’t quite get. Sure, he understood rewarding niceties, but the way it was done outside of Idrath involved weird little sticks that seemed to transfer rewards between individuals that have never seen each other before. Still, sometimes the niceties they had to do for the funny sticks were a nice diversion.

“What kind of offers are there?”

Zekra briefly looked up, giving the Idrath a measuring look. “Nothing for you. Not with the way you acted around the decontaminator.”

“What about this one?” Arqeez pointed at a particularly large poster, depicting two creatures snarling at each other in front of some sort of a cage, with fire and more creatures in the background. He had seen this particular poster a few times on the walls before already.

“No. No, no, no. There is nothing that will get me into a fighting pit.”

The dark, four-legged creature struggled, screeching and sputtering, its front claws disabled by Arqeez’ strong grip and its tentacles out of reach. He lunged forwards, still holding the creature by its front limbs, the sudden movement toppling it over and letting it fall on its back. The crowd roared, whooped, screeched and made other noises to show its approval. The loudest cheers came from Zekra, who had climbed the cage that separated the pit from the bleachers to have a better view.

Arqeez continued by stepping on his opponent’s chest, who screeched and chittered again, only for a horn blaring to declare the fight over.

“And another win for the armoured stranger!” the announcer cried out, their voice nearly drowned out by the wild-going masses. “This was it for the next 24 terts, gather your bets and see you next time!”

The spectators were barely any quieter when Arqeez left the pit, a mixture of cheering and swearing blending into a cacophony his translator didn’t even bother to decipher. The output part had been taken off before he had entered the pit to prevent it from being damaged, but the smaller input piece was still attached to his head. Zekra ran up to him barely after the cage door had been closed behind him, eyes wide, antennae erect and the mouth corners tugged by a wide smile where the tooth plates were not visible, an expression Arqeez had learned to read as happiness. Ge was waving around a number of the currency sticks on a string. “Arqeez, that was awesome! You made enough Ku to have the ship’s maintenance covered for at least two planets! You might tone it down a little next time, the pit’s regular fighters probably won’t walk straight for the next quart.”

“Hm,” Arqeez replied with waving antennae, “I wouldn’t mind to make you not walk straight either, but not in a fight.”

A part of him found the interest strange himself, considering Zekra was quite the opposite of a female Idrath, but the part was not able to redirect the interest he had developed over the time they had spent so much time close together.

“I’m sure we could find a quiet alley between the-” Zekra’s tail struck over the armoured side of his head – not painful, but certainly a definite opinion of his suggestion. Ge ducked down a bit and stepped backwards, but ger face expression remained the same, save for ger lips opening to reveal ger jagged, blood-coloured teeth.

“I can also tell the pit owner that you would be thrilled to work here, while I fuck off and leave you to your own devices. You are fucking disgusting, Arqeez.”

Before the Idrath could say anything, a third entity joined them, announcing themselves with two thrills. Turning to the source of the sound, they saw an individual Zekra could easily identify as one of the native Heycariv. Their clothes were dark blue and embroidered, a stark contrast to the mostly brown and yellow clothing of the natives attending the pit fight.

“Your fighting skills are impressive, truly impressive. I could almost assume you are a professional. May I know your name?”

Arqeez just looked down at the odd individual, tripped up and not sure what to make out of them. Did they want to fight as well?

“He's called Arqeez,” Zekra replied for the Idrath. “And I don't think he gives autographs.”

The Heycariv chuckled, a high-pitched, whimpering sound. “No, I have something better to ask of him. I assume you are his manager?”

Zekra passed a glance at ger companion. “Not really. We are just travellers who took an opportunity to stock up our funds a bit.”

The Heycariv raised their neck, briefly opening the bright green flaps in surprise. “Even better!”

Then they leaned their neck forward, shading their eyes with their antennae.

“You see, I was looking for exactly such a person. Someone big, intimidating and capable to hold their own in a fight. I do have a little problem I would like it to be taken care of, and would pay handsomely for it, that which you have earned in this hole in a wall being toilet money in comparison.”

“What makes you think we are thugs for hire?” Zekra asked the Heycariv, folding ger arms. Arqeez was scratching the scabs obtained in the fight and looking at the crowd instead, which was still cheering and swearing depending on which fighter they had been betting on.

A quick opening and closing of the neck flaps indicating surprise. “Oh, no no no. None such thing. You see, I am a busy individual and my success has made me enemies. One particularly nasty work partner has been uncooperative and threatening me for quite some time, and unfortunately I do have to deal with him lately. Last time he had let himself be accompanied by some rather unsavoury individuals to let the results turn out more in his favour through underhanded threats. This is why I wanted to simply hire myself a bodyguard who looks intimidating to deter my work partner from doing anything stupid, but is also capable in a fight should things go off course. A perfectly honourable job and nothing hard, just looking imposing, but when push comes to shove and he does have to fight, I would pay a bonus. In fact, you are welcome to join him. You see, you are not _quite_ what I came looking for, but sometimes quantity beats quality.”

“I can fight myself,” Zekra replied matter-of-factly. “What sort of sum do you want to pay for us accompanying you to your business partner?”

The Heycariv leaned even more forward and narrowed their eyes. “3200 Ku at the least.”

Zekra was so surprised by that sum that Arqeez gave ger a curious glance. “That is quite a lot!”

“Well, you see,” the Heycariv said with an expression even Arqeez was able to tell to be nothing but smugness, “I am a successful individual and do not shy away from giving those I hire what they deserve.”

“Well, Arqeez, I can't really say 'no' to this. Want to look all imposing for a bit?”

With them having decided on taking the job, it didn't take long for the Heycariv and their two new bodyguards to leave the pit arena for the business meeting. The Heycariv told them they had arranged a meeting with their business partner right away, apparently he was living close by as well. It was a ridiculously easy job to do, with Zekra thinking whether ge should follow through with hiring the Im Kpaz or maybe pay the decontaminator instead, making sure he would remove the pests without anyone having to die, by accident or otherwise.

The business partner was indeed just a few short streets away, the red light of the sun was soon replaced with the white, gloomy light inside something that was probably a storage room, shelves loaded with packages, scrolls and pottery. The Heycariv walked through the building as if they were familiar with the layout, snatching a cushion from a pile stacked between two shelves.

The business partner, a grouchy-looking Eshkenian sorting through several scroll-filled pots, eyed the Heycariv and their two escorts with annoyance as the former settled on the cushion they had taken before in front of his workspace, the pair of spines rising on his head.

“You again, Bayrodo. I have told you often enough that I am not interested. You can find the door by yourself and take that street crud with you.”

“Now, now, my dear Me'chkin. No reason to be this hostile,” the Heycariv named Bayrodo told him with an amiable voice. “You see, Master Le has been exceptionally generous to you. She is still friendly to you, asking in a polite manner to join the guild rather than taking up more... convincing measures.”

“Yes, I can see that,” Me'chkin replied with venom in his voice, his eyes first facing Arqeez, then Zekra, both standing behind Bayrodo and observing the conversation. Zekra was having ger first doubts about the job; maybe this was indeed a trader not following the local rules, but the fact this involved two random people hired directly from a fighting pit rather than official law enforcement reeked of illegal activity being conducted.

“I don't know how often I have to repeat that to you until it arrives in your brain, but I don't give a shit about the guild. It's nothing but parasites feeding off others' work.”

Bayrodo snorted in offence, but quickly caught themselves. “You clearly have a wrong impression of us, my dear Me'chkin. As I have explained to you, we do offer aid in cases of natural calamities, burglaries...”

Me'chkin rose from the cushions he was sitting on. “And I don't give a fuck! As if it's a secret the guild doesn't arrange those calamities and burglaries itself to scare the traders into joining it! Just fuck off already, I have work to do!”

Bayrodo shifted on the cushion. “Now, now, who goes around, telling such egregiously wrong slander about the guild? You see, Master Le-”

“If you love that Master Le so much, let me give you a large jar of Kishnit oil so you can slide up her twat and I’ll give your two catamites a jar each as well for them to drill her, too! Maybe then she will shut the fuck up at least and not bother me with your stupid face ever again! And now, begone!” Me'chkin snarled at the Heycarif, the air dense with the sweet smell his species exuded when agitated.

Bayrodo inhaled with a thrilling sound, then rose from the cushion themselves. “You... how _dare_ you insult my mother like this? I have been trying to be nice and this is how you pay me?” He spun around, eyes wide and discoloured. “Arqeez, do beat some manners into this uncouth Eshkenian!”

The Idrath stepped forward and Me'chkin already lifted his arms in response.

Zekra jumped in front of the Idrath, ger tail around the wrist of his upper left arm. “Arqeez, don't!”

“What is the meaning of this?” Bayrodo shrieked.

“Call the contract cancelled, if there was anything not stinking like an overflowing latrine about this, you would have hired local law enforcement to deal with it,” Zekra told him, tooth plates exposed and antennae flat on ger head. Arqeez looked between ger and their employer in confusion.

“Finally someone with reason,” Me'chkin commented the events from behind, his voice now calmer. Bayrodo meanwhile looked absolutely livid.

“You disgusting traitor! Get out of my way, you overgrown rikk!” the Heycariv shoved one of his hands into his garments to retrieve an elongate contraption Zekra had barely enough time to recognize as a gas-powered gun before the nozzle was pointed at ger head. Bayrodo had to reposition their hand on the trigger before they could push it, a few moments that allowed Zekra to lunge out of the way. Their aim was still way off, courtesy to Arqeez slamming his hand against the arm holding the weapon. The projectile shattered a pot, a sound no one cared about as Arqeez held onto the furious Heycariv's arm, twisting it until it broke.

“Arqeez, that's enough!”

Bayrodo cried out in pain, the gun falling from his now-limp hand. But Arqeez didn't even think of stopping. With a growl, he kicked the Heycariv into a shelf, shattering several more pots, before pulling them out of the shards by their healthy arm and grabbing them by their neck. Bayrodo's choked scream was muffled when another hand closed over his upper jaw.

“I said enough!” Zekra called the Idrath to stop, considering Bayrodo was not of danger any more.

Arqeez looked on at ger, then yanked the hand holding Bayrodo's head backwards, breaking their neck. Only then he dropped the Heycariv, their body twitching erratically.

Zekra stared at the broken heap for several seconds. “You fucking killed them!”

“They did point one of these tools that kill at you,” Arqeez explained himself.

“Yes, and dropped it after you broke their arm, where you could have just broke the weapon and be done, you moron!”

Arqeez felt confused. He did save ger life from the lethal contraption, yet ge was furious.

“Did you just one moment consider what gigantic vat of shit you have dragged us into this way?” Ge started to pace, looking at the place with the cushions and the scroll-filled pots which was abandoned by now, Me’chkin having left it sometime during the escalation. “Consider that killing has consequences? You are not on Idrath any more!”

Zekra’s pacing got more directed when ge headed for the door they had entered the storage room through, stepping outside into the unchanging, reddish light, Arqeez trailing behind.

“So, what do you plan to do?” the Idrath asked.

Zekra gave him a long look. Ge had calmed somewhat down by now, as Arqeez wasn’t greeted by the sight of exposed tooth plates, but the antennae were still held close to the head. “Leaving. I think you know where the fighting pit is, if the local law enforcement doesn’t decide that killing a member of an organized crime organisation isn’t worth being locked up, you can have a great career there.”

Arqeez put his antennae askew. “You mean you want to go without me? But why?”

“Have you still not understood?” ge shouted. “You are mangling and killing people as casually as scratching your head, don’t know when to stop... And then you are even asking ‘why’!” Then sadness crept into ger anger. “And who guarantees it won’t be me who will have your casual violence be directed at themselves? Farewell.”

Before Arqeez could reply, Zekra broke into a sprint, up a cable on a wall and vanished from sight on the building’s roof, leaving no scent trail on the ground for him to follow. The Idrath looked in the direction he had seen his companion go, then drew a few deep breaths.

The _Sciara_ , still with its rikks and kirrts, stood in the quarantine harbour silent and unmoving. The only change was that its door was open and ramp lowered, a connection to the outside world currently unused – or used in a fashion it hadn’t been build for.

On the way back to the harbour over Bejei-Dun’s roofs, Zekra had plenty of time to think about the situation. Now, ge was sitting at the bottom of the ramp, outer space just a few steps and buttons away, but not nearly as sure about leaving as before.

Sure, Arqeez had messed up and there was no excuse for it. He did end the existence of an entity capable of suffering outside of necessity or explicit request, an act forbidden for sapient individuals. Yet, the only reason he had done it was because the Heycariv had threatened ger. A Heycariv involved in some kind of criminal enterprise. The Eshkenian badgered by them seemed to harbour nothing but animosity for the ‘guild’, so it might be quite possible he wouldn’t involve law enforcement to have the reason for the corpse in his workplace punished, but ge hadn’t quite considered the guild taking the disappearance of one of its members into its own hands, which in turn would be a threat to Arqeez’ life somewhere along the line.

Ge couldn’t leave. Yet, what if the Idrath would lose his temper again, and kill someone who wasn’t pointing weapons at either of them, possibly even an innocent he misinterpreted the body language of? Was that a risk worth taking? Or was the risk of him leaving behind, completely uncontrolled, more worth?

As Zekra was mulling over those questions, the _Sciara_ ’s open door caught someone else’s attention.

The smell was the first thing that drove her to the large structure. There were many others like this one in her territory, appearing and vanishing at random. Most were uninteresting. Some smelled tasty. She had examined a few of them, but didn’t find anything of particular interest there. This one appeared no different at first glance, being big and elevated off the ground with few connection points. One of the connection points was different than the others, and with one of the many different animals frequenting her territory resting at the base. It gave off an acidic smell she didn’t find particularly interesting. It seemed to be in a relaxed position, focussing on its own feet or the distance, unlikely to look for prey as her. Still, she crawled up the underside of the connection to stay out of focus, towards the alluring smell. Up she went until she couldn’t get higher, from where she climbed on top of the connection, looking up at the gaping opening in front of her. The alluring smell was almost palpable, carrying the promise of tasty prey to eat. Without a second thought, she scurried inside, those thinking they were safe in there completely unaware of the threat about to feast on their bodies.

“So, you did come after all.”

Arqeez walked slowly closer, to not set off the Serkanian sitting on the ship’s ramp.

He knew where the fighting pit was, and wouldn’t have minded a few more fights, especially after such a frustrating situation as Zekra wanting to abandon him. He had wanted confirmation first, that the strange alien who had saved his life purely by accident was gone, that the ship he had been living inside for many activity cycles after leaving Idrath had departed from the space harbour. Maybe catch a last glimpse of it flying up and away. A small part of him was still clinging on to the hope of the ship and its pilot waiting for him and a bigger part was surprised to see it to be true.

“You didn’t leave?”

“I couldn’t leave.” Zekra looked back, no anger in ger voice or expression. “I had a bit of time to think it over and it was stupid what I did. You are my problem and my responsibility. I cannot guarantee you not breaking more necks in my absence.”

“Does it mean, you will take me with you again?”

“Yes,” Zekra replied, “but under one circumstance. If I tell you to stop, you do, because you will get us in deeper shit than necessary that way. Promise me to kill nobody and nothing without permission unless absolutely necessary.”

Arqeez looked at his companion for a few moments, ger usually violet eyes appearing crimson in the large sun’s red light. Then he reached up to his head and picked off the receiver part of the translator, followed by unstrapping the emitter part from his arm.

“I… promise not to kill unless you say so,” the Idrath said, letting his own voice speak instead of the translator. It was choppy, heavy with accent and a bit hard to adjust to due to the low frequency and rumbling undertones, but clear enough to be understood.

Zekra was so surprised ge stood up from ger sitting position on the base of the _Sciara_ ’s ramp. “You are speaking Unicomlang? But… how?”

Arqeez shrugged. “I listened to what you said. And what the translator said. And I was often bored in the ship. Said things into the translator just to hear what it sounded like in the language you speak.”

“That is incredible…” Zekra had assumed Arqeez to be a sapient of lesser intelligence, unable to progress to a level beyond the basic requirements of sapience, yet he was able to teach himself a foreign language with nothing but a translator to aid him. Well, he was still not the brightest, but intelligence was a finicky thing, being a combination of a myriad of traits rather than a singular value. Ge had massively underestimated his abilities. Another reason not to leave him behind, to see what the Idrath was truly capable of.

“Anyway, we don’t have time to waste. That Eshkenian might be courteous enough not to call the law enforcement over the scoundrel you killed, but their family might disagree, so we better leave sooner than later.”

“But what about the... things on the ship you wanted to get rid of?”

“They are a problem for later.” Zekra walked up the ramp, looking back to make sure Arqeez was following. “There is worse vermin on this planet than a few small, syncultural animals in the food storages, vermin with gas-powered guns for example.”

The _Sciara_ ’s door closed and sealed shut, its white lights going on and making the two interstellar travellers see everything in a tinge of blue after the Heycariv home star’s red light.

Arqeez noticed first they were not alone.

“Is that one of the things you do not want here?” he said in a low voice, pointing at an elongate animal with six limbs sitting in a corner. Its front limbs were closed around something brown and hairy, while its jaws dug into it, pulling equally brown, glistening entrails out of it.

“That’s…” Zekra looked at the creature, trying to remember what ge had seen in the common syncultural species identification handbook. “That’s a karucat. Must have gotten inside while I had the ramp down. It’s a widely-distributed predator feeding on all kinds of- that’s the solution!”

Arqeez looked in confusion at his companion, who was smiling a genuine smile. “We did come here to get rid of the small creatures the karucat is eating. It entered by its own admission and being a more or less natural predator of our little problems, it’s taking care of them just like the Im Kpaz would have, except with it living in the ship, all future infestations with rikks and kirrts are taken care of in advantage. No more overpriced offers by decontaminators or having to find shkrrini for Im Kpaz colonies as work hazard compensation. This is much better than the other two options we had. Landing here was a good decision after all.”

The karucat looked at the two large creatures bickering, blinked once with her front, then hind eye pair before picking up the rikk carcass and scurrying into the back of the ship, in the direction of the storage room, where there was less disturbance and a smell promising more food to be around.

She settled in a quiet, dark corner and finished the rikk there, licking the remains off her forelegs when the place started to roar and rattle. She briefly looked around, then resumed her cleaning activities. Roars and rattles weren’t uncommon in her territory, nothing to be afraid of. This part of her territory was one she liked, as there were plenty of dim spaces to hide in, food close by and the smell of those annoying, swift creatures stealing her food and poking her with long sharp needles was not present.

It was a good place to make herself a new lair. She stretched, then got up and scurried along the wall, a repeated rustling in the distance having caught her attention.


	8. Simulacrum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Next episode where Zekra uses a medical organ printer for pranks and Arqeez does... pretty much nothing. I should give him more to do the next episode. Also, there's some delicious imagery of alien chunks and rotting corpses.  
> Next episode will take extra long, because I will write ep. 10 first, due to there being a few events that kick off a prominent, overarching subplot and I'll need to see what I need for and have those featured in the episode before. Or episodes, if I can't get them all in, moving ep. 10 to 11.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Local time is a standardized, relative time measurement, where a day is separated into 80 units, starting at midday.

The ship ports they usually frequented were less elegant than this one. Koonai’s space harbour was enormous, offering plenty of room for all kinds of spacecraft, ranging from the smallest midge-class ships to the largest chafer-class cruisers, with even bigger ships remaining in the planet’s orbit while its passengers were transported by shuttles. Those shuttles were relegated to a different section of the port than where the _Sciara_ was directed to land, as it was not going to touch down briefly and leave right away. Although, it wasn’t planned to be left there for long, either.

“Just a turbine check, and the usual restocking. The port is not particularly cheap, but it is the only one offering that kind of service on our way... Arqeez, are you listening?”

Zekra looked back at ger companion, who was captivated by the sight of a military spaceship parked at some distance. Its light-absorbing coating made it look like a silhouette punched out of reality, only gradually revealing its streamlined shape as they walked past it, no hint of laser cannons or whatever other weaponry had been installed visible on the outside.

“Is that a ship-shaped piece of space?” Arqeez asked in confusion.

“It’s more a space-coloured ship,” the Serkanian replied, walking slower to get a good look at the seldomly-seen spacecraft gerself. “You could compare them to a predator that hunts other spaceships.”

The Idrath rumbled. “Why would such a ship be tolerated among the other ships? Aren’t you or the others afraid to have this thing around?”

“Well, it’s not in space for once. And the ships those hunt are either other ships like itself, or vessels used by criminals. It’s relatively safe, I would be more worried about some careless maintenance worker setting a puddle of fuel on fire than this thing standing around.”

They left the vast expanse of ship parking lots and entered the space port’s terminal. While Zekra vanished into one of the administration rooms, Arqeez was marvelling the high ceiling fashioned from swirling supports that held multicoloured glass pieces, resulting in a rough but fascinating depiction of the underside of a canopy with a variety of winged animals flying underneath. There were other, real entities flying through the multicoloured shafts of light, either winged, living creatures, or mechanical drones silently hovering on an unseen means of propulsion.

“Fuck,” Zekra announced ger presence after leaving the administration room. “Seems like this is one of those harbours that only allow you on the parking lots to enter, leave, or for maintenance work being done, so I would prefer to be finished here before our activity cycle ends. Otherwise, we would also have to look for a place to stay, so we should better hurry to have the turbines checked.”

As they walked through the crowds under the light-flooded glass canopy past the numerous small shops lining the walls, Zekra briefly explained what ger plans on the planet called Eshke were. It wasn’t much and not particularly interesting to Arqeez, who preferred to look at the colourful speckles of light the glass canopy left on every surface they touched, surroundings and people alike. Soon enough, they had stepped outside and the artificial canopy was replaced by a real one, consisting of trees with umbrella-shaped, overlapping crowns, their brownish-red leaves obscuring the sources of numerous voices whistling, droning and humming so loud they nearly succeeded at drowning out the soundscape of the city below. It seemed like the buildings all bore trees on their roofs, making it look like someone had wedged a city underneath a forest.

Arqeez wasn’t sure what to think of this – on one hand, the places with large plants he had visited so far tended to have more frequent rainfalls, on the other hand, the trees tended to block out most of it when they actually were underneath them.

Zekra briefly stopped to take a look at ger wrist computer and check the route to the turbine maintenance station. Ge found it rather absurd it was not located on the space harbour itself like ship maintenance stations usually were, but at least it wasn’t too far away.

Far away or not, they ran into an insurmountable obstacle either way.

Zekra wasn’t thinking too much when two small, red-and-yellow-striped vessels landed on the street close by, but stopped with a confused look when the policemen spilling out of the vessels’ doors were heading straight into their direction.

“Excuse me, but you have to come with us,” the policeman closest to ger said, a Civakko in the same red-and-yellow pattern, the foam gun meant to non-lethally subdue opponents not directed at ger, but not holstered, either.

“Arq, stay quiet,” Zekra told the Idrath, before focussing ger attention at the Civakko. “What sort of crime am I being accused of?”

“That is to be determined.”

Zekra’s antennae twitched without being lowered. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Forgive me,” a voice from behind said, just a moment before something was clipped around the base of ger antennae, first a slightly unpleasant pressure, then a brief, sharp pain that was quickly replaced by a numbness spreading quickly, leaving the antennae with no feeling at all. Zekra was more surprised than offended – ge knew of those anti-t clips from ger study, as they were used to keep children or members of tribal cultures that couldn’t be trusted with not panicking from wreaking telekinetic havoc during medical procedures.

“This is just a safety measure,” the voice from behind spoke again, a bit louder as a reaction to Arqeez’ growl.

“Calm down,” Zekra told him again as ge turned around, recognizing the policeman who had applied the anti-t clips as a tall Zambularian in a submissive pose.

“We are looking for a Serkanian criminal on the loose in Koonai,” the Civakko finally explained.

A short ride on the antigravity levitators later, Zekra found gerself on a chair in an otherwise almost empty room with several policemen attending the interrogation, the anti-t clips still on ger antennae and the arms tied to ger tail, which was looped around the chair for good measure. The only other piece of furniture present stood in front of the chair; a curved table with a Lo’sheir behind, adjusting a camera’s settings.

The individual who had applied the ties stepped back into a corner.

“So, according to your papers, you are Zekra, a physician working in Starcase on Serkanis,” the Lo’sheir said, camera adjustments done and chemosensors extended from their protective sheaths on their face. “What are you doing in Koonai?”

“I do indeed have a certificate that allows me to practice as a physician, but that is not my occupation. I am an interstellar traveller who had just arrived at the Koonai space port. To have my ship’s turbines checked.”

“And who is the individual you are travelling with? There is no species information on their papers.”

Zekra didn’t reply right away, considering ger companion was held somewhere else and there was no guarantee he hasn’t ended up sedated or injured, considering his overprotective behaviour. Or was babbling about the questionable activities they had performed in the past on other planets, which might get them into trouble despite Zekra not being the criminal they were actually looking for. “The species is not known, I found him at the Si 96 Feh space station.”

The Lo’sheir looked at Zekra sceptically. The Si 96 Feh story was the oneArqeez and ger had agreed on to use for his origins, as it was a rather off-course station that had the reputation of being frequented by space pirates and it was not unheard of only recently-discovered species or those from Category 0 planets ending up there. They never were on the space station in question, but it was highly unlikely anyone would check and the _Sciara_ was too old to have a route tracker installed. In the end, the Lo’sheir continued with the interrogation.

“Well, assuming what you tell is true, you did arrive on a ship in your own possession, which has the identification number...” they paused to look at the datapad in their hands. “SC1-26B-AI25.”

“Yes, you can check the license in my documents. It is parked on the Koonai space port of which I don’t exactly remember the platform of, but you could inquire there.”

“It wasn’t stolen, by any chance?” the interrogator asked with flickering chemosensors. The Sharkaz standing left to the table, an individual probably put there just to look intimidating, rumbled in annoyance. However, her head was facing the Lo’sheir rather than the interrogated.

“It was a fair transaction according to its previous owner, although it was not paid in money.”

“Well, I’m not here to dwell on that ship. Does the name ‘Fedji Doub’ say anything to you? Or ‘Enebeir’?”

Zekra shrugged, as far as ger tied-up position allowed. “Never heard of either. What is their significance?”

Those are two of the individuals that our wanted criminal has stolen from. I’m sure you had heard of what was taken.”

“I haven’t. I had just recently arrived, thefts and such are not among the information I read up on before landing in a specific place.”

“What about ‘Gishin-Ki’?”

“Just what in the world do you want to accomplish, Tojeh?” the Sharkaz spoke up, the translator’s voice unable to drown out her agitation. “Tell ger the entire track record of the thief, looking for the slightest facial reaction of-“

The world _sheared_.

It was like different aspects of it started to spin into different directions, any sensory input Zekra had was fraying apart. _IRRELEVANT_ , vibrated in ger mind, as if ger own bones started to generate sound all of a sudden. The sensation let ger inhale sharply and double over on the chair.

The reason for this slithered into the room barely a few seconds after the word had formed in ger mind. It was an elongate individual, moving on a legless hind body, while the flattened, flared front body holding their five pairs of currently retracted limbs was elevated high over the ground, topped by an eyeless head covered entirely in gnarled bony plates.

A Judicator.

Zekra never had the displeasure of encountering any of them, and had hoped to stay away from them in the future. This species didn’t have a name for themselves, their title was the result of their obsession with fairness that led the off-planet individuals to work in law enforcement most of the time. This was not the reason for Zekra’s unwillingness to be around them – Judicators were one of the very few species that were not just powerful telekinetics, but also telepaths able to link their own minds to those of most other species, an intrusion most unpleasant to ger.

 _WASTE OF TIME_ , the Judicator's words droned in ger mind, _THE SUBJECT HAD BEEN OBSERVED ON THE SPACEPORT BY SURVEILLANCE CAMERAS FIRST, MOVING OUT OF THE BUILDING_. _THE NOTION OF THIS ONE BEING THE SUSPECT IS PREPOSTEROUS_.

Zekra was clearly not the single addressee. Before anyone answered, the different reactions of the present people already showed they were receiving those words as well. The Lo’sheir seemed to handle the intrusion even more poorly than Zekra, looking like they were about to faint through the duration of the speech, while the Sharkaz just had her head lifted in curiosity, her tentacles expressing neither discomfort nor aggression. The two Eshkenians flanking the room discreetly stepped away from the Judicator, the sweet smell spreading in the room betraying their actual feelings.

“We are... following protocol, esteemed case director,” the Lo’sheir panted out, trying to keep their composure. “Checking every g-type Serkanian encountered in Koonai, to make sure none of them is our wanted subject.”

_I COULD TELL YOU SUCH BY PROBING GER MIND. NO NEED TO WASTE TIME WITH ASKING QUESTIONS AND WATCHING THE REACTIONS. ESPECIALLY AS MUDDLED AS THEY ARE WITH AN ANTI-T CLIP PARALYZING AN IMPORTANT PART OF THE EXPRESSIVE ANATOMY. I PRESUME YOU HAVE GER PERSONAL DATA CHECKED AND SAVED, THAT WOULD HAVE ALL NECESSITIES COVERED._

The Lo’sheir blinked a few times with an open mouth before they replied. “I... I do not think such... measures would be necessary. I will just note down that the interrogation was negative and the circumstances the subject was found under exclude them from being the wanted individual if that is alright in your book, esteemed case director.”

 _VERY WELL. SHOW THEM THE WAY OUT AND GET BACK TO WORK_. The eyeless head slightly turned, as if to fixate different individuals present in the room, then the Judicator's front body swivelled around and they slithered out of the room.

Shaking ger head to get the reverberation out of ger mind, Zekra was grateful the Judicator didn't decide to meddle with ger brain further than just broadcasting their words into it. The little speech had made ger nauseous and the Lo’sheir didn't appear any better when they stood up on wobbly legs, the pale green skin on their throat appearing ashen grey with the blood drained from it.

“I guess this is all what we wanted to know, Zekra. The interrogation is finished and you are free to go.”

Outside the police station, Zekra was still rubbing the bases of ger antennae. Two centimetres upwards from ger head they were completely numb, feeling like foreign objects. It would take hours until the effect would have worn off completely.

Arqeez warily eyed a silently passing levitator's silhouette above the tree canopy, black against the reddish sky of a setting sun.

“What did they want from you?”

“They were just asking a few questions. Didn't they ask you anything?”

The Idrath tilted his head. “No, only brought me to a windowless room, told me to wait and left.” Then he focussed on his companion. “You smell rather distraught for just asking a few questions. Is it because of those things they put on your antennae?”

“No, it's... there was a brief talk with a Judicator. Do you remember the Shaoon? Judicators don't constantly bleed telekinetic waves, but rather than talking, they insert their words directly into your mind and that feels eight times worse.”

“What did they want?”

Zekra set gerself into motion, away from the police station. “They're looking for a Serkanian thief. Apparently someone has been stealing valuables all across the city and not just the expensive trinket types. Well, with that Judicator on the police team I don't give that thief that much more time to let things change their owner. Now, let's find a cheap dosshouse to spend the night in. The maintenance station is closed for the day and opens a tert after sunrise, that's plenty of time we have to waste. And I would prefer to have a walk, I don't want to sit or lie down before my gizzard stops trying to turn inside out and chew its way out through my ribs.”

Arqeez gave ger a worried look.

“That was an exaggerated way of saying 'I'm still nauseous from a telepath poking around in my brain'- no, Arq, not _literally_ poking around in my brain.”

“I can't stand those kinds of cities only with more affluent people in mind...” Zekra grumbled under ger breath when ge entered through the hotel's gate. Not only were they not allowed to use their ship as a place to stay, but the hotels in the city were ranging from clean, decent places with attentive staff to opulent establishments where one day's stay was expensive enough to them buying a home for the stay's duration turning out cheaper.

The hotel in question was one on the lower spectrum, meaning the lobby was well-lit, drawing attention to the brown and yellow murals decorating the walls as well as several large flowerpots, each containing a different plant species. The frontmost receptionist, a Wuouss clad in heavy, dark-red robes noticed them right away.

Zekra walked up to her, trying to ignore the Leyrr swimming in agitated circles in his mobile aquarium. The electronic voice of his translator device was venting his dismay over a lack of accommodation for freshwater species to the other receptionist.

“I would like a room for the night. Something big enough for both of us,” ge gestured at the Idrath behind ger.

The receptionist warily eyed ger, before her large brown eyes swivelled towards Arqeez.

“160 Gams. Room 8H, topmost floor,” she said with a low, gurgling voice muffled by the tentacles hanging over her spiracles. Zekra took out a currency module from ger pockets to put it into the reader bolted to the counter. “But I do warn you, keep off each other. I do not want to have any mess made out of the room or hear any sounds of fornication, otherwise you will be thrown out immediately if I or any other patron hears such.”

Zekra leant on the counter and gave the receptionist an amiable smile. “Oh, do not worry about that. Just let me park my spaceship in this reception hall first.”

The receptionist's eyes narrowed. “Don't be ridiculous. Not only is it forbidden to land anywhere in Koonai aside from the harbour, but a spaceship wouldn't fit through the tree cover, let alone into this hall.”

“Exactly,” Zekra said with ger grin widening enough for ger tooth plates to become exposed. “It doesn't fit.”

It took the receptionist a few seconds to understand what Zekra was implying, but her reaction was nothing short of satisfying – with eyes partially retracting into her head and tentacles curling with disgust, she blurted out something unintelligible and vanished in the side room to get their keys.

Returning with the keys, the receptionist told them to just go, everything about her expression begging the two to leave to their room. Zekra took them and headed for the lift, while Arqeez watched the Leyrr in his mobile aquarium roll away, not swimming in agitated circles any more but still voicing his dismay over the speakers. With the aquatic gone, he followed his companion, putting his antennae askew.

“Zekra, what did you mean with 'it doesn't fit'?”

Hours later, Zekra was on the hotel building's tree-covered roof, having made use of their room being on the topmost floor, and found gerself a comfortable crutch among the branches to rest on. Arqeez taking up almost the entire space on the room's single bed wasn't the issue, as there was plenty of other furniture to sleep on. It was the frustration at the current situation and the lingering after-effects of the Judicator's means of communication that had driven ger outside into the cooling breeze of early night, to watch the stars in the gaps between the leaves and listen to the alien concert of nocturnal animals hidden between the branches.

Outside of said animals, Koonai was surprisingly quiet at night, compared to the hectic of the day. The native Eshkenians were a diurnal species and fairly strict on the night being there for resting, with all businesses aside from the most essential being closed. It was not surprising that a nocturnal or kathemeral species could grab the opportunity of silence and empty streets to move undetected, robbing others of their possessions right under their noses.

A nocturnal flier fluttered past, searching for food in the city’s canopy. The movement had directed Zekra's attention down from the stars and onto the tangle of branches and roofs below. Ge was grateful for the city not using night illumination, as any of the few individuals still outside were carrying their own means of lighting with them, leaving the rest of the settlement under a blanket of pleasant duskiness that wasn't blinding ger darkness-adapted eyes.

In the shadows underneath the canopy Zekra suddenly spotted a motion. Ge assumed it to be yet another nocturnal animal using the city's canopy as habitat at first, until said animal silently landed on a roof and looked around. A hunched-over biped balanced by a long tail, the light of the moon being reflected by the tapeta lucida of two forwards-facing eyes in a brief flash of pale light.

Own eyes wide open and antennae erected, Zekra sat up immediately. Unless this was a confusion with a similar, unknown species, that figure was clearly a Serkanian. And unless anyone else of ger species living in Koonai preferred to use the roofs and trees to traverse the city during the night for whatever reason, this was the thief the law enforcement was looking for. Ge rose from ger crutch and ran over the branches into the direction the figure had vanished into, staying on the thicker ones to make as little sound as possible. If the law enforcement was desperate enough to rely on the services of a Judicator to catch that thief, there was likely a hefty bounty on ger head involved...

Zekra had stopped twice to catch up on the thief's position with telekinetic sensing, using brief, inconspicuous bursts to remain undetected gerself - the figure was the biggest, fastest-moving object in ger proximity, easy to identify amongst the small animals flying and running among the canopy's branches.

The chase came to an abrupt stop when ge spotted the individual ahead. Rather than running, the figure was carefully lowering gerself along a facade on a wire attached to an arm, lined up with a window.

As soon as the thief would have entered the building, it would make things a lot harder. Without much planning, Zekra sprinted further along the branch ge was standing on, jumped to another branch several metres below and from there, threw gerself downwards, onto the unsuspecting figure suspended on the wire.

They swung away from the window and with the weight of another Serkanian added, the wire came loose from wherever it was attached to, letting both of them fall several metres onto a roof below. There was a brief scuffle after the landing that threw up plenty of decaying leaves littering the surface. The thief fought with all ge had against the assailant, but Zekra outmatched ger both in size and strength, resulting in ger having the figure quickly restrained in a position leaving no room to fight. The thief had barely made a sound throughout the attack and even now there was no more than strained breaths. Quite impressive, considering ger position, lying on the ground with Zekra's right hand closed around ger antennae, left arm around ger neck to keep ger teeth out of the way and left ankle uncomfortably pressed into ger abdomen for good measure.

“And now tell me, what were you doing around that window,” Zekra hissed against the captured Serkanian's head.

More strained breathing was the only answer ge got.

“Either way, you're going to the police station with me, I'm sure they will be elated to hear what you have to say.”

“Please don't,” came the answer, quiet and strained from pain. “You cannot... cannot do that.”

“And why?”

“Let me... let me explain... please...”

Feeling guilty about having had restrained the thief too hard, Zekra lessened ger grip on the other Serkanian's antennae.

“I will release you. But beware, if you try to run, fight or I feel any telekinetic discharge from you, I will tear off the nerve connections to your antennae faster than you can do anything, so don't even bother.” With this, Zekra let go. The individual didn't jump up with a hurry, but remained on the ground until Zekra was standing, then slowly rose from ger lying position, eyes fixating Zekra's forwards-directed antennae, ger telekinetic focus on a particular nerve cluster that had a good chance of the suspect fainting just from the pain of it being yanked.

It was a strange Serkanian. Unusually small even for a g-type, clad in dark clothing that had most of ger covered, the skin on ger head seemingly dyed as it had a similarly dark colouration with the stripes on ger face appearing pitch-black. They were vertical and of middle width, marking ger as Shek Amit.

“Now explain,” Zekra told ger in Amitran.

“I don't understand.”  
Zekra repeated ger words in Unicomlang, figuring this individual was born outside of Serkanis.

“You cannot bring me to the police station.”

“And why?” Zekra folded ger arms, the forwards-directed antennae threat enough. “It's not exactly like you were acting like a law-abiding citizen, lowering yourself on a wire towards a window.”

The Serkanian looked to both sides, then turned around. “Let me show.” Ge began to unfasten ger clothes.

Zekra snorted. “Seriously, even if you were the last Serkanian left in the universe, you wouldn't buy your freedom with _that_.”

“Don't be ridiculous. Look.”

The Serkanian had stripped off the clothing on ger upper body and extended the left arm. The skin on the newly-exposed parts had the same dark colouration, but they were not able to conceal what else had been revealed.

Zekra's eyes widened.

Serkanian skin was remarkable for its ability to fully regenerate even after severe damage. Zekra had heard of cases during ger studies where individuals had lost most of their skin, yet barring deaths by shock, blood loss or infection, were able to grow it back and look no different than before their accidents. This ability was the source of Serkanis' major contribution to developing in-situ organ printers, after all. To leave permanent scars, the damage had to be sustained either repeatedly or continuously over significant time, including lesions of the underlying tissue – the geometric raised lines along the thief's spine and backside of ger left arm looked an awful lot like the results of implant ports that had been removed later.

“How the _fuck_ did that happen?”

“That's the catch,” the smaller Serkaian said. “I don't know. I woke up on the bank of a river, not dissimilar to the one flowing through this city, all memories of my previous life wiped, only those scars and a serial number tattoo on my neck giving a hint of who I was before.”

“That... means you were part of an experiment. That is insane. The last time experiments with cybernetics were done on a Serkanian, the result was...”

“The Pallid Eclipse, I know. This is why I can't go to the police station. Because they will see it. And they will talk about it. And whoever was deranged enough to do this could find out sooner or later, like they have done so before. The river bank I have woken up at was close to a city called Fejekk, on the planet Verid. I don't know if you have heard of it, but there was a series of mysterious murders following a massive explosion going up in its centre, caused by a military-grade bomb of unknown origin. The epicentre was the hospital I had the scars looked at and the murders were for the most part on the hospital workers that survived the explosion. I was targeted as well but barely made it out alive. I will not take any chances of repeating that. And you would be on that target list, purely because they will have the face of the one who captured the Creeping Shadow all over the news.”

That was indeed some deep shit Zekra had stepped into. What ge had assumed to be nothing but a good opportunity to collect some funds by delivering a wanted criminal to the police station had turned into a situation potentially dangerous enough to not just have the thief’s life at stake, but ger own and possible everyone in Koonai as well.

“So, what do you suggest instead?”

The thief briefly glanced upwards, at the window ge was originally to enter before Zekra had interrupted. “Leave the planet. As quickly as possible, before the Judicator finds me.”

“And how? I’m pretty sure the law enforcement had figured that part out already and checks all traffic leaving the city.”

“I’m aware of it. A private person I have worked for before agreed to get me out, but he demands a quite hefty payment.”

Zekra folded ger arms. “And can you trust him? Be sure he won't collect the payment, then deliver you to the police station anyway to bag the money on your head as well?”

The expression and posture of the thief told ger everything. “Nothing,” ge quietly replied. “ But he is my only chance. Unless you have a better solution.”

“I am just a physician.”

Zekra was absorbed in thought for a few moments. In worst case, the wellbeing of everyone currently in this city and beyond was depending on some scoundrel’s conscience to fulfil their part of the bargain. This was a tricky situation. Zekra could have offered to get ger out on the _Sciara_ , but lacked the knowledge or equipment to do such without getting caught. Ge had an education in the medical field, not as a facilitator.

Ger antennae twitched. Maybe that was the solution after all.

“I am just a physician, but I have an alternative to offer. If it goes right, you would be able to leave Koonai on a public transit ship without anyone caring.”

The thief gave ger a curious but wary look. “How?”

Among the things Zekra didn’t expect to happen this night, breaking into a hospital was the last. Yet ge was sneaking through an empty corridor in the city’s main hospital’s cosmetic surgery ward, empty and dark due to not being an essential part of the institution. They had entered through a window on the topmost floor, easily opened by telekinetically moving a bolt out of the way. However, the next barrier, a door to the exam room, was blocked with a much more sophisticated method.

“Didn’t expect them using electronic locks here,” Zekra commented, looking at the little tab next to the door. The thief just flipped ger antennae forwards and seconds later, the tab’s colour changed from yellow to blue.

“How the _fuck_.”

“Not sure,” the thief answered while sliding the door open. “Maybe I could do it before, maybe it is a result of those experiments. It is surely handy to be able to influence electric currents, as it means no lock is safe from me.”

Both slipped inside and the thief closed the door again. Zekra gave the room a look-over. The moonlight coming from a single window shone into a spacious room, built with the native Eshkenians in mind. The equipment was stored on shelves covering the entire right wall.

“One thing made me wonder,” Zekra mused while studying the inscriptions on the shelves, “I know of the saying that you need a Keh if you want to catch a Keh, but I still can’t believe that I manage to capture you after barely spending half of a day on Koonai while the local law enforcement was so unsuccessful they have brought in a Judicator to deal with you.”

“Well… I was desperate. The work partner had demanded quite a sum and with said Judicator breathing down my neck, I knew I had to hurry. I must have gotten careless. On the other hand, I am glad you have listened. Though, I’m not sure if I do like the alternative.”

“It’s safer than being smuggled out while still being wanted,” Zekra replied quietly, having finally found all the equipment ge needed. “Now, sit on the bench and remove the clothing from your upper body.”

There was rustling to be heard while Zekra drew up the anaesthetic into a syringe. Ge was relieved to find a type specific for Serkanians, not needing to go through the biochemical profiles on each to find out which were working and safe to use. With all necessary equipment prepared and laid out on a tray, ge could begin.

The thief appeared oddly small on the low metal bench in the middle of the room, not just because the bench was made for a species several times ger size. Stepping behind, Zekra disinfected a specific area between shoulder blade and spine, then placed the syringe in its middle and pushed the button on its top. The syringe’s needle ejected and unloaded its contents underneath the darkened skin, making the thief briefly flinch and hiss.

“Does it have to be done this way?”

“Yes. Because the next needle I’m going to stick into you will be much thicker and I will have to get into the paravertebral canal with it.”

“The what?”

“The two channels left and right of your spine. The connective tissue there is a repository for stem cells. It also contains major blood vessels and the connectives of the postcranial central nervous system, so you better don’t move when I go in, because I prefer not to slip and hit any of those.”

“That is not exactly assuring,” the thief looked back, eyes wide and antennae lowered.

“As I said, don’t move.” Zekra pressed a finger into the skin where ge had injected the anaesthetic. “Do you feel anything?”

“A bit of pressure.”

“Then I can start.” After removing the cap from the needle's tip, Zekra placed the biopsy apparatus against the numbed area, then began to slowly push it into the skin. The paravertebral canal was about eighteen needle marks in, but at the thief’s small size, ge would have likely reached it at sixteen. After the eleventh mark had vanished in ger flesh, the thief sharply inhaled, but managed to remain in ger position.

“Shit. Keep still.” To ger luck, Zekra had never been on the receiving end of a biopsy and was not sure whether the thief’s reaction came from pain or the general discomfort of feeling objects move in places they didn’t belong, but it was generally considered bad practice to inflict pain on patients. Ge got the remaining five marks in, then pushed a button that opened the needle’s canal, inserted it two marks further, twisted the apparatus once and closed it. Ge could feel the thief’s muscles strain underneath ger hand when ge pulled the needle out, drawing a drop of blue outside with it. Constricting the wound with ger right hand, Zekra wiped the blood off, then sprayed artificial skin on top of it, preventing any further bleeding. The extracted tissue sample went into a small tank with fixation solution.

“I recommend not to put too much weight on that shoulder for the next quart.”

“That was all?” the thief asked.

“For now, yes. Certainly all of the medical procedure part done on you, but from now on, you will have to aid me with your skills and knowledge.”

The thief brushed over the puncture with ger tail, then sat up. “What is the next part to do?”

“For you? Not much yet. For the next step I will need the aid of a friend, I will contact you when your participation is needed, as agreed.”

Arqeez awoke at dawn, an experience he had become a bit unfamiliar with after so much time of spending his resting periods in the darkness of a ship where the presence and absence of light was dictated by something as simple as a switch rather than the cycle of the sun. The window was closed, dampening the cacophony coming from the canopy. It meant Zekra had returned from the roof in the meantime.

He found ger on a low, oval-shaped piece of furniture, curled up against the backrest and still sleeping. Nothing out of the ordinary for his eyes, but there was something different about the smell ge gave off. Mixed into ger regular smell and the rather strong scent of local trees in various stages of decay was a note he was not sure about. It was similar to ger own smell, but different at the same time.

Maybe he could ask ger when ge woke up. For now, he was more interested in following the smell of the food storages in the room.

After opening the third package and taking out several dried strips inside, Arqeez heard some rustling from behind. Turning his head, he could see a pair of legs raised over the backrest and a tail curling to its left.

“Fuuuuck,” came from behind the backrest, before Zekra's striped face rose over it. “I see you are awake already. Good morning, Arq.”

Arqeez rose and handed Zekra one of his food packages. Ge looked at the biochemical profile and had to hand it back – the food had dextral amino acids, making it unsuitable to ger. Quite unexpected for the hotel to have such, considering the biochemical profiles of Eshkenians and Serkanians were close enough they could share most of their foods.

“I will take a visit to the toilet first, then see if I can find something here that is actually edible for me,” Zekra told the Idrath.

Arqeez shrugged. “Well, more for me.”

At the time Arqeez had finished the contents of the packages he had taken out, Zekra had returned and dressed, as well as managing to find food rations that were edible to ger. Ge was absorbed in ger wrist computer, the long, reddish-brown food ration piece hanging out of ger left mouth corner.

“Will we have to stay long in here?” Arqeez asked.

“We will get the turbine check done first. Then it's a visit to the local hospital.”

“For what reason?”

Zekra gestured at Arqeez' upper left arm. It was fully formed, but had the size of one of his lower arms. It had still not grown in fully after him having ripped it off on Vergand-5-5-Ald following a mangling courtesy to a berserk cargo bot.

“Printing you a new arm.”

“Why, it is growing back on its own.”

Zekra took a cylinder-shaped object from ger bag. “Actually, I just need a sensible reason to get inside the hospital, to do a not-quite-legal favour for someone I met last night.”

“The one whose smell sticks to you?” Arqeez asked, antennae rising.

“So you noticed. Yes.”

“What did you have to do with them?”

“Just a little contract. I do something for them and get paid for it.” It wasn't a lie – the thief had agreed to pay ger for ger expenses with the money ge had already racked up. Ger work partner had indeed demanded a ridiculous sum and the part the thief already had was more than enough to fund the stay of the two interstellar vagabonds for the time they needed for the plan to succeed and the things they had to do for carrying it out.

Arqeez blinked first with his front, then with his side eyes. “You usually don't smell like your contract partner after agreeing to one.”

“Yes, because I usually don't fight them first. Do not worry,” ge added when seeing Arqeez' reaction, “it was because of a small misunderstanding in the beginning. Either way, the repair shop opens soon and I would prefer to have the turbine check done as soon as possible.”

The hospital appeared much different under the day's light and from the angle of being entered through the main entrance at ground level rather than a window close to the roof. Still it showed that it was built with a rather large species in mind there as well. Zekra had gone there right after the mechanic had been introduced to the _Sciara_ , as the time frame he had given to need for the checkup being long enough for ger to do the little detour. It was during the forenoon they arrived before the hospital's doors, at a time where not many visitors were frequenting the building.

Zekra headed straight for the reception desk once ge had entered the atrium.

“Hello, what is your concern?” The receptionist, an Eshkenian whose white face paint couldn't hide the expression of boredom on it, looked up from her work screen.

“I request using the hospital's facility, specifically the in-situ organ printers. Two sessions taking 30 secondary and three to four tertiary universal time units respectively, as well as the use of four cell incubator cartridges for at least four days in between.”

The receptionist's expression subtly shifted from boredom to annoyance. “Really?”

Zekra handed her the certificate ge had earned by finishing studying at the medical university.

“So, why do you want to use them yourself rather than than asking one of your employees?” she asked while scrutinizing the certificate.

“Because I'm more familiar with this individual's anatomy and biochemistry than anyone in this building,” Zekra said while pointing at Arqeez. “He wants his underdeveloped arm to be replaced. And I need to practice to keep the memory fresh. Hence I want to do it myself. No aid.”

The receptionist handed the certificate back. “You know, I would ask you to either have an employee do it or to get out, but I heard of that university your certificate is from. And I don't know what species your associate is. I will give you clearance, but if you mess it up, the Koonai Hospital takes no responsibility for it.” She looked at Arqeez. “If ge fucks the surgery up, you have no one to sue for the malpractice than ger.”

Arqeez just rumbled in agreement. Even if Zekra had dragged him here to have his arm recover faster, he trusted ger to do it right. Besides, he didn't even know what 'sue' meant.

The receptionist was busy with her screen for a moment. “The printer in room E6 is currently available, it's in the cosmetic surgery ward at the topmost floor. If you prefer to have a room on a lower floor, the nearest time I can offer is at 15.35 local time, in a bit more than four tertiary UTUs.”

“I will take the cosmetic surgery ward one.”

Entering something into the screen, the receptionist continued. “Second appointment I can offer in five days, starting 66.12 local time, or in seven days, starting 72.00 local time.”

“Unfortunately, those are not the kind of timeframes I need,” Zekra replied. “I would need a timeframe during the evening, past 33.00 local time at least.”

The receptionist snorted. “That would be quite late. Non-essential wards would be locked at this time.”

“I don't really have the option to do it earlier, as much as I want it. Is there no possibility to contact people from a different ward to open the door for me when I want to leave?”

Thinking for several seconds, the receptionist presented an answer. “You can use it past that time, but you will make sure to clean up after yourself. The doors will not be a problem, as the clearance certificate also works as an electronic key for the room in question. As for the appointment, the cosmetic surgery ward closes at 30.00 local time, so unless a procedure takes longer than expected, you can come in any day you want. I would recommend to return in four days, as the last appointment there is estimated to be finished at 25.77 local time.”

“Agreed.”

“Then wait a few moments.” After entering the date, the receptionist produced a flattened, rectangular object from a drawer at her desk, connected it to a slot in a reader and a few minutes and lots of screen-tapping later, handed the object to Zekra. “As you know, this is borrowed hospital property. Do not sell or lose it and give it back once your requested procedures are done.”

“I will take good care of it. Farewell.”

Zekra slipped the clearance certificate into a pocket. “Follow me, Arq.”

Meandering through several corridors and an elevator ride later, Zekra was back in the corridor ge had broken into during the night, except having entered it with legal means this time.

“Just sit down and wait. I won't take long,” ge told Arqeez after they were inside the printer room.

The Idrath observed what his companion was doing from his place on the bench in the room's middle. Taking something out from the cylinder with a rod, sticking it into one contraption to play around with it, then removing it just to stick it into another, different contraption... it was rather boring to watch.

“You know, since we are all alone here, we could use this bench for something better than me just sitting around on it. It does look rather sturdy,” Arqeez suggested, tapping the plastic surface.

Zekra didn't bother to look up from the screen, entering parameters into the incubator. “You know, I will go back on your offer when there is a hull breach in the _Sciara_ and I need something big and useless to plug the hole. But since you're so bored, I can delight you with telling that I'm nearly finished. Just a cleanup, and we're good to go.”

With the extracted stem cells now multiplying in their four incubator cartridges and the turbine checkup having been dealt with, the two had entered a tram.

“I thought we are done?” Arqeez asked after having settled on the bench row in the middle of the wagon.

“With the hospital visit? Yes, for now. But in four days, I’m supposed to print you a new arm, and it would be kind of pointless to use cell cultures of someone else that were taken for a different purpose. There are a number of prosthetists in Koonai and this one is known for making them so lifelike it is hard to tell the difference between them and a real limb.”

Zekra leaned back against one of the support struts that interrupted the seats in regular intervals, looking at the other passengers. Most were absorbed in various portable electronic devices, some talking to each other, none paying attention to what ge was discussing with Arqeez.

“Beats me why they would opt for a cybernetic limb over having it replaced in the hospital, though.”

They spent the rest of the tram ride in silence, Zekra leaning against the support strut, Arqeez observing the passengers and the surroundings outside the window. Most of them were native Eshkenians, but there were also other species present; an exoskeletal with iridescent eyes grumbling and hissing at the electronic device they were holding, two aquatics inside one mobile aquarium, the larger one lying at the bottom and the smaller one letting themselves be splashed around by the water in the tank. There were also a pair of unknown species inside bulky pressure suits being in a heated conversation in an unknown language. They left when the tram came to a stop and opened its doors, still arguing.

Over time, the wagon grew emptier, especially the Eshkenians became rare with the passengers left being mostly non-native species. The buildings outside became smaller and stood more sparse, trees growing more often in the space between them. Then it was nothing but trees for a short time, until they peeled away and revealed a sun-drenched, slightly foggy landscape of short plants that didn’t obstruct the view on the river flowing to the tram’s left side. There were some solitary trees with wide, umbrella-like crowns and only few artificial structures there, a few smaller buildings that often did not have the hexagonal shape of those in the city, as well as some masts and cables sticking out of the plant cover.

“We arrive soon,” Zekra said, having been alerted by the shade of the trees having been replaced with bright light.

The next station a few more passengers left, replaced by a noisy group of Ofarkan children and their parent trying to get them under control. At the station following it, Zekra rose from the seat and left the tram.

The station was an odd location – a block of artificial stone surrounded by nothing but a cover of short, tan and red plants with narrow dirt paths cutting into them.

Looking at ger wrist computer for directions, Zekra headed for a specific path that would lead them further along the river. The tram hummed off, leaving them with nothing but the multitude of small animals hiding in the plant cover, each attempting to have its vocalisations stand out in the symphony created by many others. Many of them went silent when the two travellers passed them, some deciding they were threat enough to leap up and either drop down at a further distance, or spiral away on gliding flaps. Two larger herbivores watched them from a distance, one going back to eating after one look, the other keeping their head raised.

Soon enough, they could see a building ahead, standing alone in the field covering the river’s shores. It looked like nothing more than a rickety shack, constructed from wood that had seen better days. Yet, as they came closer, Zekra had no doubt ge hadn’t misread the address – there were several cybernetic limbs attached to the walls like decoration, surrounding a laminated poster that read ‘Tejune's artificial limb crafting and repair’, together with the notion to go to the building’s other side if one wanted to use the owner’s services or was delivering supplies.

Zekra briefly read the rest of the poster, before facing back. “Arq, whatever I’m going to say, just play along. This is really important.”

Then they did as the poster told, rounding about the shack to see the courtyard hidden behind. It was similarly small and primitive like the building itself and wouldn’t have looked out of place in a world where the inhabitants haven’t reached a level of technology beyond the simplest steam machines, weren’t it for the complex metal parts, artificial muscles and electronic implements placed on the table at the shack’s wall – and its owner looking up from their work upon noticing the visitors.

Arqeez left out a soft rumble of disapproval. Sure, they were taller, there were plates covering parts of their head, limbs and spiked tail, their colouration was red and tan rather than brown and white, the antennae were much shorter and the eyes had a colour of blue rather than violet, but he could clearly tell this individual’s similarity to Zekra wasn’t just superficial.

Zekra looked rather surprised at the sight gerself. “Didn’t expect to meet an r-type Serkanian here,” ge muttered softly. Then, louder, ge addressed the shop owner.

“Greetings, you must be Tejune? We wish to use your services.” It was in Unicomlang – the facial stripe pattern was from an ethnic group Zekra couldn’t immediately recognize, hence ge didn’t even bother with using Amitran.

The addressed r-type looked at the two arrivals for a few moments before stepping away from the workbench and focus all of rer attention on them. “And there I was thinking there were no g-types left in the city after the police controls intensified. What brings you here? I see neither missing limbs nor prosthetics replacing them.”

“No, we are not looking for a prosthetic directly. My friend here had lost his upper left arm some time ago and while he is able to regenerate it, it does take its time and in the meantime… well, you can see how it looks like. He finds it rather embarrassing and would like something to be able to hide it. I heard you are quite skilled in making your prosthetics lifelike enough for them to be barely discernible from real limbs and was wondering if you could make something suitable.”

“It... looks funny,” Arqeez blurted out awkwardly, extending his too-small arm. He had no clue what Zekra was planning.

Tejune stepped closer to Arqeez, scrutinizing the half-regenerated arm, who in turn kept a close eye on the unfamiliar Serkanian and took on a more intimidating pose.

“That would be easier to do than a full prosthetic. Faster to finish, too,” re commented.

“I’m curious of your craftsmanship, though,”Zekra said. “Could you show us some samples of your work, to see if your artistic skills are like everyone says? Arqeez really wants the temporary replacement to look realistic.”

Tejune snorted with amusement and pulled up the sleeve on rer right arm. It looked like an r-type’s arm should, until rer left hand pulled the skin off along barely-visible seams, revealing silvery artificial muscles underneath.

“Is this realistic enough?” re asked with a grin that had rer tooth plates exposed.

Zekra stepped back in surprise. Not only didn't ge notice the limb was artificial before, but it was exceedingly rare for any Serkanian to use them at all.

“But you could easily have an organic arm printed in Koonai's hospitals!”

“I grew kind of attached to it,” the r-type replied, placing the skin back where it belonged. Now, Zekra could see that the creases around the elbow looked a bit off and light reflected off the skin in not quite the way it should.

“How did it happen?”

Tejune notioned the two visitors to follow inside. “It's a long story that began with the Alnai-Raoves war. I joined it as an outside recruit, as I couldn't find any other purpose in my life at the moment.” Re picked up a handheld scanner and walked up to Arqeez' right side. “Lift your upper arm, I will need reference scans first.”

As re was scanning the arm from every angle, re continued. “Flying a _Hybos_ class military spaceship seemed a good occupation for me, but it ended when my ship was shot down in the proximity of Nefeirus, where I crash-landed, having to walk for several days with one arm lost and one leg severely mangled until I reached the next settlement while barely-alive. Nefeiri aren't well-tied into the Interstellar Congregation and rely on older medical treatments, hence the limbs were replaced with mechanical prosthetics rather than printed anew.

And that was where I found my purpose in life. With me essentially owing my life to those primitive prosthetics, I wanted to learn the craft myself. First as a student of the prosthetist who had fashioned mine, then moving from place to place to learn new methods and improve. Until I ended up in Koonai's outskirts. So, the scan is finished.”

“Well, then it's understandable,” Zekra replied, having sat down on the ground in front of a shelf while listening to Tejune telling the history of rer artificial limb. Or rather limbs, as re did imply one of rer legs was a prosthetic as well. It was indeed a testament of rer craftsmanship, as there was no limp in the r-rype's walk when re put the scanner back on the table and picked up a camera to return to Arqeez. If one wasn't looking for the finer details, it was impossible to tell this Serkanian had any artificial limbs at all. Re was indeed the best choice available for ger plans.

“I only need to make some photographies for reference, then your part is done.”

Zekra rose from the ground. “How long would it take?”

“Tomorrow if I start right away, in two days if I finish the prosthetic I'm currently working on first. If you want yours handled as a priority, that will be 40% extra, but generally, still less expensive than an actual prosthetic.”

“I'm fine with it being done in two days.”

The most annoying part was the waiting. The days crawled past like tar while they waited. To distract themselves and increase their funds a bit, Zekra managed to find some work for Arqeez and gerself by aiding a local resident in packing and moving her possessions out of her house, but it changed little about the gnawing anxiety. They retrieved the finished limb in two days. It was as well-crafted as ge had imagined, making Arqeez look like before his incident with the cargo bot, and with a few adjustments it was even possible to convert it into a left arm to mask any future arm loss on either side.

After nightfall, Zekra climbed onto the hotel’s roof and brought the limb for the thief onto the tree they had agreed on to use as their means of communication, along with a note telling where and when they were to meet again, as well as to organize a long, sharp object, a second set of clothing, a blanket big enough to wrap gerself in completely and the dye ge used to darken ger skin.

With all pieces of ger plan shaped and laid out, it was time to put them together.

The last day was the hardest to get through. Arqeez managed fine, but Zekra was tense throughout the entire day, blundering at work and pacing whenever ge was supposed to rest. Quite often he did hear a scratching noise coming from ger when ge was grinding ger tooth plates against each other. Any questions about ger current state were generally avoided with vague answers.

Time crawled past, the sun began to set and cast Koonai into a peculiar lighting where the space between the buildings was lying in shadow while the trees above were illuminated in soft, orange light. This was the time when Zekra left the hotel and the two made their way to the hospital.

A different receptionist awaited them. The tired-looking Tolemo looked up from his screen when they approached, appearing like he was just waiting for his shift to end. Zekra showed him ger clearance certificate and after a short check, the receptionist waved them through.

They took an elevator to the highest floor and entered into a dark, empty hallway, illuminated by nothing but the dying light entering through the windows. Compared to the bustle of the hospital lobby, it was strangely quiet up there.

“So, what is this hospital visit really about?” Arqeez asked. “First you are just playing around on machines, then you get me a fake arm despite saying you will-”

“Quiet!” Zekra hissed. “I will explain it once we are inside the room. Then you will have to watch what I’m planning to do anyway.”

Once the door of the room was closed, Zekra’s attention was first on the incubator cartridges hooked up in a small, dark side room.

“I need to prepare the process as soon as possible. The faster I’m ready before my associate arrives, the better,” ge told the Idrath while carrying the cartridges into the main room one by one.

“What about the plan you wanted to tell me about?”

“Well,” Zekra began, thinking about how to word it. “The cells I have been growing inside those cartridges are from a Serkanian. Ge wants to leave this planet, but can't. It's the thief the police is searching, the one why I had been taken to the station shortly after arriving. To aid ger in leaving, I have agreed to make a... decoy.”

Arqeez set his antennae askew. “Is the payment for the contract good?”

Zekra put the fourth cartridge down. “Not really. Enough to cover the expense of the stay and this aid plan.”

“Then why did you do it?”

“Because the Judicator won't take long to find ger and when the police gets a hold of ger, they will see the leftovers from experiments done by some secret military organisation, which will in turn be a risk for everyone even remotely aware of it when said military organisation starts silencing those knowing too much.”

Arqeez antennae sank backwards. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“Because I deemed it best for as few people to know of it as possible. You could have ended up tattling to someone else.”

“Zekra, I…” the Idrath turned his head to the side, preferring to look at a yellow blinking light on one of the machines in the room than at his Serkanian associate for the moment. “I would wish you would have just been honest with me. I know you tell made-up stories to anyone if it serves you, but you could tell me the truth. I wouldn’t have told anyone if you would have asked not to do such.”

Zekra looked a few moments at the Idrath, ger antennae sinking as well. Then ge stepped over the lined-up cartridges, placing both arms on Arqeez’ shoulders.

“Well, the truth is, I didn’t want to worry you. I have been on edge throughout the entire time of those days we had been preparing this plan. One misstep and we would both end up arrested in best case, dead in worst case. It was enough with me having that constant fear, so I preferred to spare you from it. Even if it meant omitting crucial information for a plan you were part of.”

“I can handle it,” Arqeez replied. “You do know where I have lived before meeting you, after all. No more dishonesty.”

“Nothing promised,” ge said with a genuine smile. “Sometimes I will still have to. But outside of those cases, I will tell you the truth without omitting important things,” ge added with a more serious expression. “But for now, I need to set up the organ printers.”

Arqeez watched ger work on the various machines standing in the room, muttering to gerself about how some parameters didn’t make sense.

“Stunted growth, as I had assumed. Well, guess I will have to ask ger for ger actual height and weight to make it right, or make an estimation if ge doesn’t arrive in time. Arq, get up from the bench and help me remove its covers.”

With combined effort, they lifted the surprisingly heavy plastic cover off the bench in the middle of the room. Underneath, there was a white, iridescent surface. Before Arqeez could ask what it was for, he heard the door slide open. Alarmed, he turned into its direction, seeing a strangely familiar, yet different face peek inside.

“I’m not too late, am I?”

Unlike the prosthetist, this individual didn’t just resemble Zekra in appearance, but was almost a spitting image of ger, barring the smaller size, the dark grey colouration with black stripes showing on ger face and the eyes being bluish-green. Arqeez did recognize the smell – it was the same smell that had clung to Zekra a few days ago. He relaxed upon realizing this was not a hospital worker, but the associate they were supposed to meet. It was still surprising to him that it was another g-type.

Zekra’s antennae rose upon seeing the thief. “You came to the right time, I need some parameters to be adjusted. Have you brought everything I have requested?”

The other Serkanian lifted the bundle in ger hands. “Blanket, set of clothes, dye and the artificial arm you have left me. The sharpened metal rod is on the roof.”

“Good. Then we can start soon.”

“Is this thing alive?”

The thief was looking at the bench with a nauseous expression. The iridescent surface had moulded itself into the shape of the backside of a g-type Serkanian of the thief’s size, several sets of thin, robotic arms dancing around above it, slowly filling the depressions in the bench with layers of skin, muscle, bone and organs. Slice by slice, they were building up a full copy of the thief with the cell cultures grown from the stem cells extracted from ger body.

“No,” Zekra replied, ger gaze alternating between the bench and the in-situ organ printer’s screen to monitor the process. “It is a layer of living cells printed atop a mass of dead ones. Without any living body to sustain them, they suffocate within the span of a tertiary UTU at latest.”

“I swear I can sometimes see it twitching…”

“That’s because sometimes muscle fibres will react to random stimuli, or nerves will generate random impulses. But there is never a consciousness formed in the brain. As said, it’s just a sliver of living tissue and the brain cells lack proper connections. It’s born dead.”

Arqeez himself was looking at the process with bile fascination. He tried to make out organs, but it seemed to be a plane of different shades of blue with no shape or volume to them. The sight did make him kind of hungry, but the smell was rather off-putting.

“Why does it stink like that?”

Zekra looked up from the screen. “That’s probably the ammonia you are smelling. It’s toxic to a number of biochemical profiles, but an integral part of Serkanian biochemistry. There is a higher concentration in the cell solution to compensate for the loss by evaporation. And before you ask, no, you cannot have the leftovers of the cell solution,” ge added with a side glance.

Speaking of cell solution, it was time to exchange the cartridge. A few routine manipulations and the empty cartridge was ejected, quickly replaced by the next waiting in line. With that out of the way, there was not much to do for the time being and Zekra simply watched the printing process.

Usually, there was no more than a limb or an internal organ being printed at a time. Printing a whole body had required ger to plan it out properly, so it wouldn’t fall apart in the process or cause a mess otherwise. It was also illegal use of an organ printer, dead result or not. Ge felt reminded of the semi-legendary case where a group of medical students had broken into the experimental organ printer room and produced 64 copies of male reproductive organs which they later plastinated and turned into pens, some of which supposedly still being in use by the university staff today. But the misuse of an organ printer ge was conducting right now was a whole different league, which wouldn’t have ended up in a reprimand, but rather an expelling and criminal charges on top.

Hours passed, in which the body was built layer by layer, until the cartridges were empty and the last parts were covered up by white and brown skin.

Despite having dissected several corpses while studying, Zekra did find the result slightly disturbing, considering the live version of it stood right next to it, still looking nauseated.

“From now on, only you are allowed to touch it,” Zekra told the thief. “Any genetic material other than yours on it would raise suspicion of it coming from the killer.”

“Well, good to know, with me not being able to properly use my left shoulder for one more day…” the thief commented.

“You can aid yourself with telekinesis, it should be strong enough to lift your own body weight. Otherwise, I can aid with mine, as it doesn’t involve touching it. I will clean the room up now, you use the time to apply the dye to the body.”

It was way past midnight when Zekra and Arqeez left the printer room, the latter wearing his artificial arm in a sling.

“Why do I have to wear the sling?” Arqeez asked. “I thought we are pretending I got a new arm printed in there.”

“Because that is what would be done with a real arm,” was the reply. “Freshly-printed organs don’t have the integrity of their naturally-grown counterparts for some time and need to be slowly introduced to stress to not be damaged.”

Speaking of which, Zekra hoped the thief was following ger instructions closely. While ge didn’t expect the suspicion of the corpse being fake being at the top of the list for those to investigate the situation, it would certainly be rather suspicious if the limb of a fresh corpse could be accidentally pulled off during its examination.

A different receptionist awaited them at the hospital’s entrance, a Limarian this time. Zekra handed them the clearance certificate.

“I’m done.”

The receptionist looked at Arqeez, seeing his arm in the sling. “Hmm, heard of your case. Were our facilities sufficient to perform the replacement on this unusual species?”

“Everything went fine. It was a pleasure to work in this institution,” Zekra replied. Arqeez shrugged his upper left shoulder. “It is looking very good. I can’t wait to finally being able to use it like my right arm.”

“That is great to know,” the Limarian replied. “Did you clean up the room as agreed on?”

“Cleaned, disinfected, treated with UV light. No risk of anyone using it after me to be infected with exotic microorganisms.”

“Good. Feel free to use our services any time again.”

After the corridor on the hospital’s topmost floor was dark and silent again, the printer room’s door opened and a shadow slipped outside, a bundle of ger own size slung over ger shoulders. The electronic lock closed behind ger and ge opened a window, clumsily climbed on the sill, shot a grapple into a branch above and zipped away. A telekinetic impulse closed the window and the corridor was dark and silent once more.

After a day of work, Teijune was enjoying the evening sun on a log lying on the river’s bank, looking over the rippling waves and the winged animals diving into the swarms of smaller creatures dancing above.

Re had always preferred the simpler life away from large accumulations of people. Rer skills were known in Koonai well enough to give rer a steady income, with rer dwelling being put just at the right distance where the desire to get a prosthetic of someone of rer reputation and the unwillingness to travel all the way were balancing each other out. It allowed for a rather calm life without being drowned in work or having to hire subordinates, as well as giving rer plenty of free time to enjoy such calm evenings as this one.

A smell disturbed the tranquillity. Alarmed, Tejune stood up from the log, following the direction the wind carried the smell from. Unlike the other smells coming from Eshke’s unfamiliar plants and animals, this one was something re would never forget. It was like the smell of the gangrenous wound on rer leg re had gotten acquainted with rather well during the days re was trudging along Nefeirus’ forests, but much stronger.

Re did spot the source of the smell entangled in the roots of a Jeydab tree some distance upstream, the tattered dark clothing, grey skin, purplish-grey flesh and exposed bones nearly covered in swarms of small animals dancing above the parts sticking out above the water surface and the masses of elongate, pale aquatic scavengers crawling over it on the submerged parts. Still, re could easily tell these were the remains of a Serkanian, presumably a g-type, judging by the size.

“Shit,” Tejune hissed out. Re was sure this corpse had been washed there from Koonai and knowing that most g-types had left the city, it left pretty much two options whose remains those were. It didn’t matter whether this was the infamous thief terrorizing other people’s valuables or the individual accompanying the large exoskeletal re had made an artificial arm for several days ago, re needed to inform the local police as soon as possible.

The Creeping Shadow had died, just as that. The better part of a rev had been spent by the police’s ever more frantic search, just to find ger entangled in roots, half-devoured by aquatic scavengers and the metal pole assumed to be the reason for ger death still driven though ger chest.

Long before the investigations were finished, numerous theories about the circumstances of ger death had sprung up. Most people presumed it had been a client, a scoundrel like ger who took the stolen goods but didn’t want to pay ger compensation. Other theories reached from a vigilante hero living in Koonai as secretly as ge did, to ger committing suicide to prevent gerself from meeting the Judicator in person. There were plenty of heated discussions in between waiting for new information being released by the police. In the end, they could reconstruct ger having been killed on the Cherey bridge through impalement by a sharpened metal rod, then thrown over with rocks attached to ger legs. The scavengers feeding on the corpse had disintegrated the ankle joints and freed it from its tethers, allowing it to float downstream where it got stuck on the roots. Still, despite the investigation having been thorough, there was no trace of the killer. No witnesses, no recordings on the surveillance, not even a bloodstain on the bridge. Likely a job done by professionals. In the end, the Creeping Shadow’s death remained just as mysterious as ger life had been.

Everyone was so caught up in this case that no one paid attention to the small Serkanian walking into Koonai’s space port with the intention to purchase a ticket for a shuttle.

Sarqa was not used to walk among the general populace freely, the fear of being caught still lingering in the back of ger mind. The more rational parts told ger there was nothing to worry about – with ger dye removed and ger being officially ruled dead there was no way anyone would draw the connection.

“One ticket for the Rajt shuttle,” ge timidly asked the seller once it was ger turn.

“Hm? Yes, that’s 224 gams,” the seller told, scrutinizing ger with forwards-extended eyes.

They didn’t even ask for papers. With the ticket paid, ge hurried to ger destination. The actual Rajt shuttle was a massive structure in the planet’s orbit at the moment, too big and unwieldy to ever land on its surface. Several smaller shuttles connected the two, one of which Sarqa was aiming for.

Ge stepped into one of them, being given clearance automatically. Several more passengers were already inside. One Eshkenian looked up, moving his eyes back onto the electronic device he was reading on just a few seconds after. The rest didn’t even bother with that.

Taking place in an empty cubicle and fastening the safety belts around gerself and the meagre bag of luggage, there was not much left to do besides waiting for the shuttle to take off. A small, round window allowed a view outside, showing the expanse of the spaceship harbour and the city’s tree cover behind, where ge had lived for several revs.

Ge didn’t think ge would miss this place. An announcement later, the shuttle’s doors sealed shut and a hum was briefly heard when the antigravity engine started, then everyone was pressed into their seats as the shuttle began to rise, leaving the harbour behind.

The white of the cloud cover was replaced with dark blue. Sarqa registered the change without caring, ger mind being more on what lay beyond. The Rajt shuttle would pass by several planets, each a potential new home for ger, each further away from the river bank near Fejekk. Further away from the Judicator who had forced ger to leave. This got Sarqa to think a bit about ger future. Ge was a good thief, but it was also a risky occupation that ge didn’t just endanger gerself with, considering ger strange past. And ge wasn't getting younger. With time, it would get only harder to keep gerself out of harm’s way. Maybe ge would try something new this time. Locksmith would be a good option. Having picked lots of different locks in ger lifetime, both mechanical and electronic, ge had plenty of experience to work with.

Zekra had followed the case on the nexus after having left Eshke behind. Ge was glad everything went well, that the pathologists didn’t give the corpse the thorough examination that would uncover its origins. In general, it looked like they were relieved that the thief wasn’t stealing any more, wanting to wrap up the case and move on.

The thief had compensated ger with a part of the funds scratched together for the facilitator, but it turned out to be less than ge had hoped for – enough to cover the stay and the ship maintenance, resulting in them having pretty much the same amount of money as when they arrived. It had been a rather convoluted diversion that started with wanting a turbine checkup and ended with the misuse of an in-situ organ printer to create a dead copy of an infamous local thief to help ger escape from imprisonment that could result in lots of dead due to a past as an illegal experimental subject.

Chewing on a stonewood stick, ge closed the tab with the news from Koonai an opened up a star map to look for the next planet to land on. For now, ge had enough of conducting shady business. Among those shown on the _Sciara_ ’s route, Jareda appeared to be a good choice. Atmospheric composition and gravity were both within suitable parameters for ger as well as Arqeez, the population density wasn’t high, and one of its towns had an university focussed on xenobiology that was renown beyond its system.

A slight adjustment of the route brought the _Sciara_ onto its new course.


	9. Still waters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somewhat of a breather episode where Arqeez plays around with a spektrometer and Zekra undresses for free. No criminal activity this time, just aiding scientists and more of a focus on character development rather than action. Also, the bug guy gets some focus this time, considering he wasn't that present in the previous episode.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, reviews help me to improve and also motivate me to write more.

“I do not like this at all.”

Arqeez looked at the  _Sciara_ 's windscreens in distaste. Everything outside was a blurry, quivering mess, distorted beyond recognition by the diluge of raindrops hammering against it. Zekra's eyes were focussed on the screen on the console, where external sensors told of the ship's position without being compromised by the rainfall.

“You're lucky, though. This cloud front had just passed the station we are going to land at. If we had arrived half a tert earlier, there wouldn't be a ship between us and the rain.”

Lairagh-2 was a rather interesting choice to visit. A Category 1 planet, where the only allowed settlements were temporary, meant for the scientists examining it as well as the associates necessary to have everything run smoothly. The station they were aiming at was run by Jareda's university of Ximbul, their latest contract partner. It was a delivery of assorted samples and instruments, not well-paid, but enough for a restock and not much of a detour.

At least it was nothing that involved printing a fake corpse right under a Judicator's nose.

The hammering faded out and the headwind blew the water off the windshields to reveal a strip of winding coast separating a greenish-blue ocean to the left from thick, dark red forest to the right. The landing space was tiny, formed by several hexagonal platforms in shallow water, each barely able to hold a smaller spaceship. Two of them were occupied by plain, dumpy models built to carry as much weight as their size allowed. The _Sciara_ barely stood out among them once its three feet touched down on the platform and the turbines grew silent.

“Are you Pelei Kos-Kamaeran and Hree, by any chance?” a booming voice reached them barely after their feet were off the ship's ramp and on the rough, grey material of the platform. It belonged to a Foo'' with an unusually-rotund frame and arm-tentacles painted with red stripes.

“The two experts for ximopodan anatomy and shore ecology, respectively?” he added, his mouth wide open and unmoving as he spoke.

“We are Zekra and Arqeez,” the Serkanian called back. “The two experts for bringing a supply and sample delivery to the Mir-45 research station.”

The Foo'' tilted his head, blinking with his pair of small eyes. “The Mir-45 research station is not part of my responsibility, I'm afraid. That is something for Irea. Please follow me.”

The landing platform was connected to the shore by nothing but a narrow, swimming bridge that wobbled under every step. Arqeez crossed it slowly and carefully, both larger arms always tight around the railing. Having an unstable ground underneath his feet was bad enough, but the presence of water made it only worse.

“Come on, Arq, they roll cargo much heavier than you and it doesn’t drop into the sea,” Zekra told him from the shore.

The Foo'' led them to a number of modular buildings made from parts that allowed for easy dis- and reassembling, as field research buildings usually were. These looked surprisingly sturdy and were additionally fastened with cables, probably to withstand the tropical storms that rushed in from the  sea . 

Another member of the research team greeted them shortly after.

An individual with a mix-oriented main axis, four legs carrying a bluish-grey body with two brighter blue stripes running along the sides, four eyes and the pink, fleshy antennae above them – a Shrindarey. A synthetic lifeform where a good part of the genetic code was artificial, resulting in them having traits and producing compounds unknown in unaltered organics. Another feature added into their genes was them having different morphotypes, each optimized for their task. Zekra suspected this one to be an Eysh-Kalomati type, a scout for exploring and evaluating unknown places.

Gesturing with his two left tentacles for the two visitors to wait, the Foo'' walked up to eyr and after a short talk, he vanished inside the building. In his stead the Shrindarey walked up to them, giving Arqeez a curious look-over before speaking , the six spiracles taking turns in forming words.

“Greetings. I am Irea, the logistics expert and marine megafauna researcher,” ey introduced eyrself. “I heard you have delivered material from Ximbul's university, intended to go to the Mir-45 research station, is this correct?”

“Yes. Should we unload it?”

The freight wasn't that large – just two regular transport crates that weren't particularly heavy. Most of the time unloading was spent by Arqeez carrying his crate over the swimming bridge, even less sure about his footing now his larger pair of arms was occupied. Irea checked the contents once both were on the shore, revealing a number of packed tubes and some electronic devices Zekra couldn't identify.

“Is everything in order?” Upon Irea's confirmation, Zekra asked eyr about the payment.

“The transfer device is on the Mir-45 research station itself. That is where most of the staff lives,” ey replied. “I could either suggest you to wait here, but that would take several terts at least. Or I will take you two to the research station itself, where I would be willing to add a few Gams to the agreed sum in return for some help. Especially the big exoskeletal could lend his strength to some of the researchers there.”

Arqeez gave the Shrindarey a curious look. “Where is this Mir-45 research station you keep talking about?”

Arqeez didn't enjoy the ride for certain. The boat glided over the waves, a stiff breeze pushing against its tall,  spade-shaped sail. It swayed and there was water all around them, the safety of the shore moving away ever further as it shrunk back behind them. Taking his longing glance off the pale strip of sand and the red foliage, he looked up instead, to avoid looking at the shifting, churning waves all around him. 

Zekra, meanwhile, looked like ge was having the time of ger life. Having climbed the sail mast nearly to the top, ge shaded ger eyes with one hand, the rest of ger limbs more than enough to secure ger in ger swaying position. Arqeez lowered his head again; it was beyond him how the Serkanian could enjoy this, with the swaying at the top of the mast being much stronger than at the bottom of the boat.

“Just try to relax,” the Shrindarey told him, lounging on the front bench with one hand on the rudder. “The sailboat won't topple over. And in case of emergency, we have flotation devices.” Ey took a yellow and black cartridge from underneath eyr bench and showed him.

Arqeez only dug his claws further into the mast as a response, adding more dents and scratches to the white, plastic-like material.

“Arq, look at those!” came from above.

A number of flying animals had joined the boat, effortlessly gliding along on their two pairs of long, narrow wings.

“Those are blue-tipped pylopteres,” Irea replied. “Long-distance soarers feeding on helio-algae. They probably got attracted by your unfamiliar smells and came investigating, as they are rather curious creatures.”

One of the pylopteres separated from the group and dove down, a pair of tentacles emerging from its mouth and splashing into the sea, retrieving a brown, wheel-like object covered in spiky protrusions. With whistling vocalisations, the other pylopteres chased after the lucky individual, intending to have a part of its catch.

“Always misers,” Irea commented. Then, ey leaned forwards and unfolded something that looked like a pair of wings itself, shimmering in a dark green colouration.

“It's sunny, might as well use the ride for photosynthesis,” ey told when seeing Arqeez' eyes focussed on them.

Slowly but surely, the island they were heading for peeled itself out of the slightly foggy air. Arqeez' grip on the sailmast had lessened – less because the boat hasn't toppled over yet, but more because he was growing tired of clinging to it. Zekra had come down once ge had spotted the island, currently sitting at the boat's edge and dragging a hand through the waves shooting past.

“Over there!” Irea pointed to their left, where something large was disturbing the waves. Something _moving_. Arqeez added a few more scratches to the base of the sailmast when he got up and still clinging to the structure, changed the side to at least have the mast between him and the aquatic thing out there. 

“I really don't want to be here right now,” he told.

Irea reacted with amusement, making a drawn-out hum followed by a chitter. “Do not worry, Gaima-Sey are absolutely harmless. This one we have named Kurrouma, he is a resident here. I will send him a greeting.”

Ey reached over to the console at the bow, tapping a few buttons. All of a sudden, the boat vibrated with a low hum that grew in pitch, followed by two thrums. The boat vibrated again when the Gaima-Sey answered, followed by a high-pitched, fluctuating whine.

“He wished us save travels,” Irea said, looking at the console.

“So, there is a sapient species native to Lairagh-2, after all?” Zekra asked, shaking ger wet hand off.

“It might be argued,” the marine megafauna researcher replied. “Gaima-Sey are highly-intelligent, and despite its decoding is only at its beginning, it's clear they do possess the kind of complex communication necessary to pass as a sapient. However, their social structures are loose at best and they lack the ability to use tools. Their interactions with the Congregation probably will never go beyond limited contact with researchers.”

The underwater disturbance followed the boat for a while, before the waves cleared when Kurrouma dove deeper. As Zekra looked into the water, ge could see a dark shade pass underneath, no features recognizable aside from the immense size.

The rest of the boat trip remained uneventful. It was docked at a floating pontoon, which to Arqeez’ dismay had no railing, but was at least short and broad, bringing him back onto unmoving land quickly. Or at least it should be unmoving, as his sense of balance was so messed up from the swaying of the boat that he still ended up stumbling from side to side as he followed the others.

Irea led the way over the outcrop of rounded rocks at the beach to a path winding itself in between the dense foliage of the forest beyond the shore.

“The more important buildings have been put a bit deeper into the forest,”  ey told them. “That way, they are s afe from the storms.” 

They had to push the overhanging lianas apart, but once past that living curtain, the forest appeared much less dense, consisting of thick, coal-black trunks with scale patterns reaching up from a ground cover of enormous, almost black leaves growing from bright orange bulbs. The research buildings were visible ahead, the smaller ones suspended on cables between the trunks, the bigger ones standing on stilts, both connected to the ground with narrow ramps.

“Your crate goes into the building to your right,” Irea gestured at Arqeez, eyr antennae pointing into the direction of a smaller building suspended between four thick, scaled trunks. “Mine is for the botany lab. If the door isn’t open, just press the round button. Leave the crate in the corridor against the wall, the researchers will know what to do with it.”

With the crate placed where requested, the two vagrants returned to Irea to have their payment and leave.

“Unfortunately, that will take some time,” the Shrindarey told them. While the university was nice enough to leave an inventory list with its prices in the crates this time, the facility still needs to transfer the money here. As an interstellar traveller, you likely know how long it takes until a message had been transferred over the Nexus.”

“All too well,” Zekra replied. The interstellar network was something ge only used for the bare necessities, preferring to haul data for the next flight from local planetary networks during landing periods.

“But as mentioned, I would add a bit from the local funds in exchange for your help here,” ey continued. “There is always enough to do on a research station. Alternatively, you can simply enjoy the stay, but do ask someone to accompany you if you want to explore. Jalguz, what is the matter?”

Eyr head turned towards the  mottled brown individual hurrying into their direction in a weird gait created by two real legs and a thick, articulated tail that served as a third. Zekra wasn’t sure, but this might be a Yegarran. 

“Good that I am encountering you here,” they called out, voice heavy with accent. “I have aashi news, you can forget about the night research trip. There is massive storm gathering out there, it will hit in about two tertiary time units.”

“Irea exhaled, eyr side eyes slowly closing. “Well, at least Gesheiki will have her fun…”

“Wait, there was no information on a storm anywhere in the area’s forecast I have received,” Zekra interrupted. “Just the afternoon rainfall.”

“Of course, because the weather forecast that is sent out is nothing but jimisa, the average,” the presumed Yegarran named Jalguz replied “This planet has only few research satellites, barely enough for us to get decent forecasts just few tertiary time units in advance.”

“But if the storm hits in two terts and the data transfer takes…”

“Unfortunately yes,” Irea finished ger thoughts. “you can’t depart until the storm is over.”

They tried to get the best out of their situation. Following Irea’s advice, a person in need was quickly found in the form of an older Tolemo geologist who had trouble with organizing his samples. His only aid was a worn-out robot, perpetually broken due to the unsuitable climate, which made Arqeez’ strength rather valuable. Zekra busied gerself mostly with giving the Idrath directions and reading the labels for him, as well as putting ger climbing ability and telekinesis to use when it came to clearing the top shelves.

It was dark as if night had fallen already when they left the storage room, the wind howling between the branches and roiling the nearby sea. While little of the wind made it between the thick cover of plants, they still hurried to the next building to try to offer their aid there.

It wasn’t big and stuffed to the ceiling with a mess of electronic instruments. The presumed Yegarran was in the middle of the mess, one hand on a  touchpad below a screen, the other operating the buttons of a large, curved apparatus, all the while whistling and rattling a melody. Hearing the wind howling through the opened door, they turned their head to look at the two  who had entered .

“You two? What is your concern?” Jalguz asked, facing them with their right eye.

“Just looking around to offer aid,” Zekra replied. “Though, it looks like we would stand in the way more than actually be of help here.”

“Oh, no no no. This work needs no much room. Just some preparation of sample and... how much you know about stable isotope analysis?”

“Not much, I guess.” Zekra's last lesson on spectrometry had been long ago, as it had little relevance in the medical field save for a few rather specialized applications like forensics. Ger lack of private interest hadn’t led to any more knowledge about it, either.

“What is an isotope?” Arqeez asked.

Jalguz' eye fixated the Idrath. “It is when element comes in different masses because of additional neutrons being present.”

Arqeez just put his antennae askew in confusion. “What is a neutron?”

“He didn’t exactly have a formal education,” Zekra explained.

“Kawrisi. Oh well. Then I guess it is best I show it to you.”

They took a tray off a shelf to their left, mostly orange-coloured objects that seemed to be parts of native plants neatly arranged on it.

“What we doing is to use these samples and measure ratios of their isotopes. Each solar system has its own unique isotope ratio composition, but different process change them slightly. Measuring those differences can tell lot about what you are examining. What kind of food it ate or where it lived, for example.”

“But what if it wandered?” Arqeez asked.

“Especially then,” the presumed Yegarran said, their voice rising in pitch and the ears on their shoulders rising. “Each place have its unique isotope composition and if you examine right parts of body, you can tell where it were and when.”

Zekra tensed up a little at hearing this. “So, would samples taken from us reveal the paths of our travels?”

The scientist turned their head. “Technically. But that would require alaumi... sufficient knowledge of isotope ratios of places you visited, sufficiently-long stay where you are consuming local items for their isotopes to be incorporated to your tissues and decent knowledge of your anatomy to use right samples. Usually, it is long-living, mineralized hard tissue that is preferably dead. Like cuticular adornments or skeletal parts or teeth. Most interstellar travellers do not have suitable samples, due to isotope ratios around space ports where food and water are sourced are garbled mess.”

That was good news at least – it made it unlikely for Arqeez’ true origins to be discovered. While there was surely a strong signature from Idrath still left, Zekra found it unlikely the scientists who had originally examined the planet had gone to the point of having the necessary samples collected and the isotope ratios recorded. After all, the place looked like it had been used as the dump of some crazy geneticist creating one deadly lifeform after another, which led to it being assigned as Category 0. Or taken samples of the Goronoi system in general, for that matter.

“Anyway, what we want examine today is the local food web, and how much the local plants depend on kley. Those are small, colonial animals living in the soil. Many plants have hollow roots with special structures just to give home to those and the assumption is they either do it to protect from subterraneous herbivores or to gather nutrients from kley droppings. This is why we measure the carbon and nitrogen isotope ratios, see which hyno... hypothesis more accurate.”

They picked up one of the samples, a striped orange block of plant tissue, and placed it atop a ceramic slide.

“At first, sample needs to dry.”

Jalguz' left eye intently focussed on the sample and a pair of bright green flags rose from the hair on their head. Before their eyes, the sample began to steam and shrink, making Zekra’s assumption about this individual being a Yegarran accurate; there was no other species with this particular appearance possessing pyrokinetic abilities.

Arqeez just looked at the sample getting its water boiled out, his antennae catching the scent carried in the vapour. It was somewhat appealing, but not to the point he would be interested in eating it right now.

“Now, it is put on sample holder and inserted into sample chamber.”

Jalguz moved themselves out of the way to show what they were doing. A few taps on the  touchpad and pushes o f a  control  stick later, the sample showed up on the screen, enlarged to fill out the entire view.

“This mass spectrometer uses laser ablation, that allows to measure the sample directly, without having to dissolve it first. I am doing now to place the measurement spots. I set line starting at major vessel and moving away from it through the adjacent tissue. You see the marks?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Look at rightmost one.” A few more taps on buttons. “You notice anything?”

Arqeez stepped closer to have a better look. “Something is changing there.”

“Yes, the laser pulses evaporate the sample at this spot and the resulting gas is blown into mass spectrometer for analysis,” Jalguz told him, the enthusiasm in their voice palpable.

“Now, me need save the measurements and continue with next spot.”

Zekra sat down on ger heels while waiting for the Yegarran to finish showing Arqeez how the mass spectrometer worked. It was evident they didn’t need any help with their work, but rather enjoyed having interested company. While it was unlikely this would get them paid, at least it was a way to kill time without Arqeez getting any stupid ideas spawned from boredom.

“And now, you make next measurement yourself!”

“But do you think that is such a good idea?” Zekra stood up again. “What if the sample gets damaged or contaminated? Wouldn’t that hamper your research?”

“Oh, no worry about that,” Jalguz replied, turning their head to the side again. “I’m here to supervise. Formal education or not, I can tell your friend is smart enough to understand what needs to do, otherwise they would not have been so interested in watching me.”

Another sample was cooked dry with the Yegarran’s pyrokinesis, then placed on the sample holder. “Open the hatch. Good, now pull on this bar. Put sample holder into round opening in the middle. Apply bit more force, it isn’t properly locked… now is. Good, close the hatch. Tap this button to evacuate sample chamber.”

Jalguz guided Arqeez through the process, doing little more than placing the measurement spots on the sample  them self. The next sample measurement was done by Arqeez with barely any instruction, even the measurement spots were placed by him after the Yegarran had explained him what part of the sample were of interest to them and pointing at the structures on the sample to measure. 

Zekra’s initial doubts about Arqeez doing the measurements were evaporating quickly; the Yegarran didn’t complain even once and the Idrath had gotten a hang of the process rather quickly. It seemed like despite his limited knowledge about the world due to spending most of his life taking care of basic survival, he was a vigilant observer and quick learner. He had shown it already by learning Unicomlang on his own, with nothing but an universal translator aiding him. Maybe it was best to allow him more freedom, to introduce him to the use of various technological implements that would make both his and ger life a lot easier.

In the end, they had measured through the entire set Jalguz had shown them, both Arqeez and Zekra handling the measurements, the latter being invited to participate once Jalguz noticed how bored ge was.

When they exited the small building and descended its swaying bridge that connected it to the ground, the storm was hitting the island at full force. The wind was howling, the sea was roaring and torrents of rain were whipping the canopy above, the wind shaking it hard enough that a good deal of the rain came through, forming puddles and rivulets on the soft ground and soaking the two in seconds. It was so dark that only Zekra was still able to see anything, as the Yegarran’s dark laboratory had given ger eyes the  impulse to change into their nocturnal configuration. Wrapping ger tail around one of Arqeez’s larger arms and leading the Idrath ahead this way, they headed for the largest building in  the research station .

Arqeez was sneezing and sputtering when the door closed behind them, leaving the storm  outside . “I do not like this at all. There’s too much water here.”

“You can say that again,” Zekra replied, wiping the drops off ger antennae. “All it needed is to have hailstones the size of your head added to the mix.”

The rumble of a thunder shook the building, making the sparse lights that illuminated the hallway flicker.

“Well, let's see if we can find a place where we can get some rest.”

As if on order, Irea stepped out of one of the side rooms. “There you are! The transaction was successful. Do you want it to be transferred to your currency storage  modules now?”

“The time doesn't really matter at the moment. Besides, with that storm outside, I'm kind of doubting there won't be some electrical fluctuation right at the moment it is being transferred and causing a fuckup,” Zekra said. “That's why we would prefer to rest through the storm and take care of that later.”

“Well, I could unlock D'Krajikk's room for you, considering he is currently on the mainland and won't return in the next days. However... how familiar are you with Gshfeii sleeping habits?”

The reason for that particular question became evident as soon as they stepped inside the room. It was unexpectedly spacious, the walls covered in shelves stuffed with books, scrolls, various storage devices as well as samples in different stage of preservation, along with a number of other items. But the most prominent object was the large pit in the middle, filled with white sand.

From what Zekra knew about Gshfeii, they were desert dwellers. Using a pit of sand as a bed wasn't overly surprising and considering how much space it took up, it was likely used for other purposes as well. Spending their night in there felt almost like invading the scientist's privacy.

Arqeez had little qualms about it.

“It is warm,” he exclaimed after putting a foot into the pit.

“Must be quite the respected scientist if he can allow himself to have this piece of furniture installed in his room,” Zekra commented, then unslung the bag harness to place it on the ground. The shoes quickly followed, laid out wide open to let them dry.

“But... there is only one pit here. And nothing else,” Arqeez said, watching Zekra pull the tunic over ger head.

“The pit is big enough for both of us,” came the reply. “Also, take off your bag, there is no need to wet the bed any further than necessary.”

Doing as told, Arqeez stopped in his tracks. The moment the tunic was off and spread on the ground, Zekra had run the tip of ger tail along the back of ger one-parter, which caused it to split along its length and reveal a pattern of white spots and stripes on dark brown skin underneath. The piece of clothing was removed and placed next to the tunic.

“What?”

“Since when do you undress for the night?” Arqeez asked. “Or did you have something else on your mind, because I wouldn't mind to enjoy the sand properly.”

“Then you can have your way with the sand all you like tomorrow, when I'm out of sight and earshot. But you will have to explain your residues to the staff yourself. And if you haven't noticed, my clothes are soaked. I would very much prefer to have them anywhere but on me right now.”

Zekra turned around, replacing the view of the pattern on ger back with the white of ger front. Stepping down into the pit, ge looked a bit sceptically at the sand, then began to scratch a hollow into it with a foot at the pit's edge, before laying down in it and curling up. Wriggling motions let ger sink into the sand further. It reminded Arqeez of a Kelei, a  small ambush predator from Idrath that waited for unsuspecting prey wandering past its hiding place and dragged it underneath the sand with its overlarge jaws.

Maybe the planet having too much water wasn't such a bad thing in the end.

Settling down into the sand himself, Arqeez quickly found a comfortable position. It was almost like home, except he didn't have to worry about any predator looking for a meal or some bigger, stronger animal deciding that the comfortable patch of sand was now theirs. He turned his head to have another look at the brown and white patterns. The combinations of this sight and the comfortable bed made his thoughts wander to places far detached from the rest Zekra had intended. Maybe ge was just tired right now and would be more interested in the activities that currently filled Arqeez' mind later?

“Rest well,” came from the curled-up, half-buried figure in front of his eyes, then an antenna rose and with a click of the light switch, the brown and white patterns turned into the same pitch black as everything else inside the room.

When they stepped out of the research camp's main building, at first glance it was like there had been no storm at all. The air drifted lazily, thick with moisture and already warming up in the light of the rising sun. However, the storm hadn't passed without leaving any traces, as the ramp they descended was littered with leaves and branches. Several of the large, near-black leaves were torn and the corpse of a pyloptere in between them had attracted the attention of several scientists.

“Are you ready to depart?” Irea asked with the verve only a never-sleeping Shrindarey could have.

“The earlier, the better, I guess. Not that the afternoon torrent decides to start a few terts earlier than scheduled or such shit.”

Irea made a drawn-out hum followed by a chitter. “Well, do not worry about that. The weather is going to stay like that long enough. Did you take all your possessions with you? Nothing left forgotten?”

Zekra looked back at the building's door. The possessions they had left to dry on the floor for the night were all back in their places, the payment for the delivery had been taken barely after they left their borrowed room, receiving an additional currency storage module from Jalguz with a modest tip for the aid yesterday. There was nothing left to do, except maybe offering more aid, but that would only bring them closer to the next unavoidable storm that plagued the coastline.

“Everything is where it belongs. Is the sailboat ready?”

“Okeyk should have loaded the samples by now. I would assume we can depart.”

Considering the intensity of the storm, it looked almost surprising to see the boat where they had left it yesterday. The nearby beach was littered with debris, ranging from broken-off branches over a variety of colourful aquatic plants torn loose by the waves to animals that perished in the storm, either land dwellers that drowned in the waves or aquatics thrown onto land to suffocate. A tragedy for them, but a feast for the hunched, red and black animals digging around in the debris and picking up everything edible in between with their thick, dexterous mouthparts.

The sailboat itself rocked a good deal lower in the waves, weighted down by several boxes distributed over its deck.

“How much will the load slow it down?” Zekra asked.

“Not at all. Actually, the wind direction will have us travel to the mainland faster.”

Irea wasn't lying – ey just had to untether the vessel from the pontoon and span up the sailcloth before the wind took control of it and let it glide over the waves. It had to be steered around tree trunks bobbing on the sea's surface a few times, but once they left the island's vicinity, the path was clear.

“Sounds like Kurrouma is trying to tell us something,” Irea informed them when the boat rumbled. “I wonder what it is. It's something he had repeated three times, but there is no word in the database that corresponds to it.”

“No 'safe travels' today?” Zekra asked from atop the mast. From ger elevated position, ge was able to see the Gaima-Sey passing by the boat, a large, dark silhouette of an elongate body with six pairs of fins and a paddle-shaped fluke at its end.

“Curiously, no. He is swimming unusually fast, too. Maybe the message wasn't directed at us, but his mate? She does show up here on occasion.”

“Who knows. But I would prefer not to be around when they start consummating their relationship,” Zekra replied while watching the silhouette vanish in the distance. “I don't think the boat would survive that.”

The Shrindarey reacted with amusement. “Gaima-Sey mating takes place in deeper waters and at a different season. There is no reason to worry about that.”

Arqeez just dug his claws further into the base of the boat's mast, still preferring to be everywhere but on a small, rocking vessel surrounded by a blue expanse of water full of gigantic creatures. It was unlikely there was a sufficient amount of grinding and polishing to ever get the scratches out completely.

The sooner the boat ride was over, the better. At least, he could see the faint dark line of the coast ahead already.

Another rumble shook the boat, but it was so unlike the Gaima-Sey's vocalisations that even the passengers not acquainted with the planet's fauna reacted with uneasiness.

“What kind of-”

“Weraekk!”

The panic in Irea's voice didn’t bode well. “That was what Kurrouma was trying to tell us! It was a warning!”

One tentacle rose above the  surface , then another. By themselves, they looked rather unassuming, two red and yellow appendages barely thicker than the sailboat's mast and tipped with numerous fleshy fingers, but they belied the vast shadow Zekra could make out below the waves.

“Fight them back, but don't touch them!” Irea shouted, pulling a rod with a metal hook from a holder on the boat's side. “Show them that this boat is no food and all pain!”

Zekra jumped down from the mast,  finding an identical rod  on the boat's opposite side. “Is there anything else left to be used as a weapon?”

“Maybe the sample boxes, but with your friend's fear, it's unlikely they would be of much use,” Irea replied, shouting the last few words, while hitting the tentacle that came too close. It backed away a bit, but clearly remained inquisitive.

“For fuck's sake, Arq!”

Still holding the mast, Arqeez wasn't quite understanding the panic. There were those two tentacles, but they were rather small, not much of a threat. Not like the sea surrounding them. If they were to come too close, he would fight them back, but willingly stepping closer to the rocking boat's edge?

Zekra and the Shrindarey were doing just fine, hitting every appendage that came into range.

Except, the boathooks didn't do much to deter the tentacles. Changing their approach, they simply rose up, further and further, then curved down and descended on the boat. Their finger-like tips examined the inside, wriggling over the benches and the sample boxes. Irea had to step away from one of them and hit the closest sideways, making it retract to the other side. It decided to explore the mast instead, sliding down the smooth material and coming too close to the Idrath sitting at its base.

Arqeez reacted as expected – a large hand closed around the wriggling appendage, yanked it down and brought it into the vicinity of a set of waiting jaws.

This got much more of a reaction out of the tentacle. The tip was writhing in pain and the whole appendage pulled away with such force it  was dragging the whole boat sideways before it was able to free itself from Arqeez’ grip.  Upon release, it shot back into the sea, spotting the deck with purple blood and flinging Zekra off the boat and into the water below.

Irea’s eyes widened. The other inquisitive tentacle retracted together with its injured opposite.

“You shouldn’t have touched it.”

The next moment, Zekra  pulled gerself  back  over the boat’s rim, dripping sea water inside. “Fuck,” ge exclaimed, then ger eyes met with Arqeez’. 

The Idrath  had stood up, his four eyes directed at the sea, where more tentacles began to rise. They were not like the modest, colourful pair that had risen to explore the boat before, those were massive, muddy blue like the sea and lined with black hooks. The Weraekk’s feeding instruments, now that it  had become aware of prey being there.

One of the tentacles from the tangle extended forwards, to grab what the sensors had found. As soon as it was in reach, Arqeez grabbed it with all four arms, digging his claws into soft flesh and biting down hard enough to add more purple stains to the boat’s floor almost immediately. Irea and Zekra dug their boathooks into the tentacle, but it was the Idrath who did the most damage. The tentacle first attempted to wrap around him, quickly decided it wasn’t worth it and began to pull back; yet Arqeez didn’t release it, putting his foot against the boat’s rim and continuing to  maul the appendage with unmatched ferocity, the orange streaks the tentacle’s hooks left in his skin all but ignored.

The boat shook with the vocalisations of the giant sea dweller.

There was nothing that could stop Arqeez now. Those weren’t simply small, unassuming tentacles, but threats. It was a choice between the diffuse danger of the sea around them and the acute danger of the predator within, with nothing but a boat protecting them from either.

He had made the decision to do everything to fight off the bigger threat, his fear of water pushed back so far it was nothing but an afterthought.

Teeth and claws tore through layer and layer of tissue, not even thinking about releasing the appendage that pulled the entire boat with it in its ever more frantic attempts to retreat closer to the writhing mass ahead.

He didn’t notice how another feeding tentacle came in, hitting the boat hard enough to make everyone inside lose their footing. Freed from the abutment of the boat’s rim, the tentacle could retreat into the sea, dragging Arqeez with it.

The two were too entangled to separate in time. While the tentacle had lost all interest in the presumed prey after all the injuries it had caused, the fact there were four clawed arms dug into its skin while its hooks had attempted to dislodge the clawing and biting menace made the course of events inevitable. Arqeez barely registered being flung forward, before he saw the dark sea below him, hitting it with a loud splash. The cool water was immediately all around him, distorting his vision, deafening his ears, making his antennae burn with salt and rushing into his spiracles.

He tried his best to shut them off, but he was still able to see the stream of blurred silvery bubbles rising to the  diminishing light above . To his left, he registered a colossal dark shadow, extending its tentacles to  the silhouette of the boat .

The salty water rushed deeper into his airways, making him sneeze, but all it resulted in was to pour more water inside, more bubbles of air to leave him.

Less time to live.

Fighting the urge to get the water out, Arqeez looked up, to the shrinking shadow of the boat. He had suppressed his fear of water to fight against something bigger, but at what price? Well, this way only one of them had to die, rather than both of them.

The water  _shook_ , and two more colossal shadows appeared, ramming into the first. The dark shades of the tentacles retreated to show more of the fading light.

Then a pale shade wound itself past them, descending below Arqeez, before he felt a hard push against his upper back, too weak to halt his descent. Whatever it was, it started to touch him in various places, then he heard several low booms and on the places he had felt the touches, he now felt a pull, strong enough to defeat the sea’s grip on him. The light of the surface came closer again.

The moment his head broke through the sea’s surface, Arqeez took a deep, rattling breath, then coughed and sputtered out what felt like half of the ocean’s contents through his spiracles. Blinking the stinging sea water out of his eyes, he saw several white, air-filled bags in front of him, attached to his torso and limbs to keep him afloat.

“Arq! Arq, are you all right?” a familiar voice shouted at him, still muddy from the water in his ears. Turning his head to the left, he saw two white antennae. Zekra was below him, arms around his neck and pushing to keep his spiracles as high over the water’s surface as possible. Ge had been the pale shade going after him into the unforgiving depths to return him to the surface.

More couching and sneezing was the answer.

“I guess that’s a ‘yes’,” ge said with elation. “Let’s get you back on the boat, I have seen rocks that swam better than you.”

The mainland’s coast was reached without any other incidents. Most of the trip was spent in tense silence, everyone listening for any rumble or whistle coming from the sea. Only when the features of the coast were clearly visible did Irea tell them about the Weraekk. They were usually living in deeper waters and never ventured into this area, that particular individual likely having been driven  there by the storm. They were lucky the Gaima-Sey didn’t tolerate them in their territory, as Kurrouma’s and his mate’s attack had shown.

As soon as the boat was docked, its passengers left for solid ground, leaving the sample boxes for others to tend. Irea hurried towards the nearby building to get readings from the radar stations on the Weraekk’s current whereabouts, while the two interstellar vagabonds, being halfways dry after their involuntary diving trips, walked towards the  _Sciara_ . Arqeez still hadn’t properly recovered from nearly drowning, walking slowly to keep himself from overexerting. It allowed Zekra to give the ship a decent look-over and see if there was any damage caused by the storm. Safe for a few smaller pieces of plant debris, none of which were lodged in the legs, manoeuvring pits or the turbines, the ship appeared the same as they had left it.

Zekra retrieved the still-damp remote control from the bag harness. “Well, looks like the little trip is over, Arq. Any wishes on what kind of planet to go next?”

Arqeez was busy rubbing his left antenna with one of his smaller arms, combing out the salt crystals that had formed on the hairs. “No sea,” he said with a voice still rough from all the inhaled water. “And no rain.”

“I can agree on that,” Zekra replied, watching the _Sciara_ ’s ramp descend to the ground. “Maybe there is some nice place in a desert in the vicinity. Or a base with no rain or large bodies of water to worry about. We will see.”

The door sealed shut behind them and about fifteen minutes later, when they had settled and been given clearance to avoid jostling any of the  few  satellites circling the planet to collect all the data they could, the  _Sciara_ ’s turbines howled to life and carried the ship higher and higher towards the open blue sky, leaving the planet and its few research stations behind  to set course for a different habitable island in the vast, empty sea of space. 


	10. Hidden monsters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quick update, due to this episode having been written before the ninth, where Arqeez has a slight overreaction to someone's air freshener and Zekra shares an idea on ship decoration. Also, a bit of other, insignificant stuff happening here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, should I up the rating to M, considering the level of violence and sex jokes being present?

„How is it doing?“

Her striking green eyes reflected in the Raakano's goggles as he looked up at her, appearing startled by her presence in his personal little world. The scientist flattened his mane and lowered his head in submission, slightly moving closer to the white corridor‘s wall.

„We are progressing as planned. Physically, the implantations have been accepted and integrated themselves into the nervous system well. As for how he will handle it mentally, that is not my field of expertise, esteemed principal.“

She flapped her head flags and showed her teeth. „I am aware of this not being your field of expertise. Is the subject in a state that allows my visit?“

“Of course,” the Raakano hastily said, lowering his head even further. “Feel free to enter and take a look, esteemed principal. I will wait outside, in case you have any further questions regarding the project.”

She gave him a gesture of approval and the next moment he had left her field of attention entirely, all of it being directed onto the red metal door behind him. The electronic lock unlocked it the moment her identity was confirmed, allowing her to enter the laboratory hidden behind.

A pair of almost-closed eyes greeted her, slightly widening at the sound of her footsteps but remaining to stare into nowhere. The subject was heavily-sedated as demanded by protocol, strung up into an upright position on a metal rig that allowed to operate on it from any angle. At the bottom of the rig, the subject's name was engraved into the metal in angular letters.

“Selom,” she read it out. “You are truly a masterpiece.”

It had taken quite some time to turn this promising primitive into a living weapon. She marvelled at the increased muscle mass, the sturdier bone structure, the metal exoskeleton suit meant to further increase the power of both. The weapon systems that were to be controlled by thought alone once the subject was deployed in what it had been created for. She stepped around the rig, to have a full view of this advanced weapon she was financing.

Unbeknownst to her, under heavy lids, a pair of narrow pupils had followed every of her movements. Augmented, exoskeleton-aided muscles began to strain against their tethers.

“So, I think it is done.” The spaceship system mechanic stepped back on his many pseudopodia from the open hatch in the _Sciara_ 's floor, lowering his stilted eyes to examine his work. “I will just have to put everything back together and close it up.”

Zekra was sitting on a crate tethered next to the alga farm and watching him work on the waste filter. The fix was long-overdue and ge had resolved to do it as long as there was still money left from the job on Vergand-5-5-Ald. So far, the _Sciara_ 's windows had been given a polishing, removing all the scratches from the microscopical space debris, and after the waste filter repair Zekra planned to install a more robust pallet for Arqeez to sleep on, making the two old replacement mattresses obsolete. Benaxia was the perfect place for this, a sprawling metropolis where nearly everything was available in multiple versions.

One by one, the mechanic put the waste filter components back into their places, before the lid was dragged back over the opening and the fastenings secured it in place. He loudly exhaled when his work was finished.

“How much will it cost?” Zekra asked. The mechanic had only given ger a frame for the costs, telling that the final price would have to depend on how much he would have to repair and replace.

He curled his many fingers while thinking. “Hmm... 658 Gams overall. It was a routine repair, the components I had to replace were cheap. However, I would be willing to cut the price in half in exchange for a favour by the big guy over there,” he pointed with a screwdriver at Arqeez, who was sitting on his mattresses, playing with a simple carved puzzle and paying no attention to the mechanic.

„What kind of favour?“ Zekra asked in his stead.

The mechanic scratched himself behind his eye stilts with his screwdriver before putting it back into his toolbox. „I will keep it short - my son is a lazy prick who does nothing besides sitting in his room and waste time on the network. He doesn't attempt to find work or get an education and nothing me or my partners had tried managed to change anything about it. Maybe we are just too timid to try anything that would actually get his postabdomen out of his r oom, but I’m sure your companion has no inhibitions about it. I don’t want any violence, just him using his imposing figure to its best.”

Zekra snorted with amusement at the mechanic’s choice of words, considering his species didn’t have postabdomens. “I’m sure that can be done. Arq, want to help a frustrated parent by putting a rocket under the arse of their lazy kid?”

The mechanic’s house wasn’t far away from the spaceship harbour, still in Benaxia’s outskirts where the buildings remained relatively small. It was a rounded two-storey house, where an individual standing on four slender legs greeted them by extending their cranial arms and nodding their head. They shared an affectionate head bump with the mechanic and their verbal greeting revealed that this was his aforementioned partner. Zekra looked rather bewildered by the sight for a moment; the two were obviously different species. The two invited them inside, past a narrow vestibule and into a spacious round room nearly drowned in thick carpets and tapestries, all in kept in various shades of rich brown.

There, a third individual walked up to them, this time a worker caste Yohanro. For a moment, Zekra thought this was their adopted child in question, but it would be odd to refer to an adult worker caste member as a son, until ge saw the mechanic greeting them with the same level of affection as the other individual. This was either a genuine three-member interspecies relatinoship, or a cohabitation of lonely individuals searching for the comfort of each other, as it was not unheard of for highly-social species living far away from their home planets and colonies.

“So, you finally decided to let someone take care of Kelgie, I see,” the four-legged individual commented, giving the two vagabonds a look-over. Arqeez wasn’t paying attention to them, as a peculiar scent had captured his interest, letting his antennae tremble in the air to gather more of it. It was strangely alluring, making it hard to concentrate on anything else besides finding its source.

Zekra got his attention back with a tap of ger tail against one of his legs. “Have you listened? Just go up the stairs, open the door and tell him you will do unspeakable things to him if he doesn’t move his arse outside to either look for work or pursue higher education. No actual violence, just shout at him a bit, growl, throw a few intimidating postures. Scare him until he propels himself out of that door with his own shit.” Ge pointed at the curved flight of stairs running along the room’s wall.

Arqeez did as he was told, excited to notice the enticing smell got stronger when he ascended the stairs. At their end, there was a small vestibule with a few items hanging on the walls, a closed door on its other end. The ceiling was low enough that Arqeez’ head was scraping on it when he stood fully upright.

Taking a deep breath, he got a good grip on the rope that served as the door’s handle and gave it a yank, loudly slamming it against the wall.

The inside was dark and stuffed to the brim with various items, mostly consisting of a variety of electronics and discarded food packaging, barely visible in the dim, flickering light coming from a screen. The individual he was meant to scare was sitting in front of it, limbs folded underneath and wide eyes staring at the reason for the door having opened so suddenly.

Meanwhile, Arqeez needed a few moments to find his words. Tearing the door open like that had sent a gust of air over him so heavy with the peculiar smell that he could nearly taste it. It was almost overwhelming, letting his antennae tremble in the air and guiding his thoughts far away from the reason he had come up there.

“I tell you to get outside and get yourself some work,” Arqeez growled with the kind of voice he had used to scare away lenns from carcasses. “Go work or go educate…”

He took a few whistling breaths. This smell was too distracting… “Go educate or else I will have to growl and intimidate until you, until you shit-propel outside on that door!”

The individual’s limbs folded up tighter and his eyes grew wider as Arqeez shouted at him, squeezing himself against the back wall. “I will!” he shrieked in the end with a high-pitched, cracking voice. “I will do anything, but please, don’t rape me!”

“For fuck’s sake, Arqeez, what the fuck were you thinking? I told you to intimidate the shit-scratcher, not to scare him half-dead with your dick hanging out!” Zekra hissed, restraining gerself from going as loud as ge actually wanted, considering they were on a public pavement with plenty of other people around. The odd couple consisting of a Neuood, a Yohanro and an unknown species had taken it with humour despite their adopted Lo’Sheir son looking like he would need psychological therapy when he was finally coming downstairs. They even donated Arqeez a towel to wrap around his midsection, yet Zekra still found the situation to be exceptionally embarrassing.

“I didn’t do that on purpose,” the Idrath replied. “There was a scent in the room. It was so… so distracting.”

Zekra slowly exhaled, folding ger arms while walking along the streets of Benaxia, the tall towers of the inner city ahead. “Seriously, next time you should just tell me when some smell is setting you off. I would prefer such a thing not to happen again.”

“Well, if it does happen, we could take care of it together,” Arqeez suggested, antennae trembling again.

“Yes, I will take care of it by cutting it off, plastinating it and mounting it on the front of the _Sciara_ as a figurehead,” Zekra snapped back.

“You wouldn’t do that. Or would you?”

“No. I prefer not to risk the _Sciara_ being confiscated due to it being confused with a weapon system, as those are illegal on civilian ships.”

Ger pace briefly slowed down, then ge made a turn to the left, right through the open door of a pub. The smell of food and the sound of several screens greeted them, each showing a different movie with a small audience clustered around them. Zekra headed for a pillar-shaped console, tapped around on one of its screens for some time, then shoved a currency module into a slot. After a bit of more tapping, ge retrieved the module and faced Arqeez.

“I have ordered some food for you. Kai-Saki specifically, a frozen dish that should cool you down properly. Just wait at one of the tables.”

“Didn’t you order something for you as well?” Arqeez asked with his antennae askew.

“I have business to do in the inner city. It’s one of those affluent places where they demand decent behaviour, something I can’t trust you with currently.” Ge handed him the module, together with the remote controller of the _Sciara_. “If it takes longer, you can either ask an employee to order more food or something to drink, or you just watch whatever catches your attention on the screens. And if that gets too boring, you can go back to the ship at any time, you know the procedure.”

“But I’m sure that won’t happen again,” Arqeez said quietly, turning the module and the remote control in one pair of hands each.

“Even if it won’t, your behaviour can’t always be called decent. I don’t want to take any risks while being up there.” Ge gave Arqeez a genuine smile. “You can handle being left alone for a few terts. As long as you don’t threaten anyone or break anything, you should be fine. Nothing is going to go wrong.”

With this, Zekra turned around and walked out of the pub, leaving Arqeez alone with the currency module and the remote. He saw ger vanish from sight, then a pub robot got his attention with its electronic voice, carrying a plate on its top laden with a yellow and brown dish.

Zekra took one of the autonomous rail wagons that commuted between Benaxia’s outskirts and the inner city. It was rather inconvenient that the city’s only heat exchange system expert familiar with the  _Sciara_ ’s older model had to live there, or that the inner city was one of those annoying affluent communities where one’s worth was entirely measured by their possessions or their ability to generate revenue, with individuals below a certain baseline being seen more as things rather than entities. Ge hoped the visit would be worth it, as the cost of the ride was high enough.

The smaller buildings became interspersed with tall, cylindrical skyscrapers, until they were dominating the view, forming a forest of megaliths made of metal, ceramic and plastic, with the smaller buildings clustering around their bases. The rail wagon meandered between them, regularly stopping and exchanging passengers.

When it was Zekra's turn to leave, ge pulled the currency module from the reader installed to the wall, the costs for each section of the ride having been subtracted automatically. It was a simple yet effective system – pressure sensors registered the presence of passengers and the wagon wasn't moving until everyone had paid, any fare dodger having to face the ire of the other passengers. The cobblestone streets outside were full of various inhabitants, many of them clad in colourful, detailed garbs, but there were also plenty of machines in between them running errands.

Truly a paradise for anyone with enough money to afford it.

Moving with the uneasiness of a rikk in the middle of an empty spaceship harbour, Zekra headed for a small restaurant serving sweets a few skyscrapers away from the station. It was the place ge had agreed with the heat exchange system expert to meet. An odd decision, but apparently, they didn't like meeting new customers in their workshop for one reason or another.

The restaurant's outside portion was wedged between its respective building and a shop selling fancy gastroliths. Yellow and green drapes were spanned up between the buildings, shading the low tables and woven resting mats from the bright early afternoon sun. There, Zekra spotted a Viessian, skewering ball-shaped food items on a long instrument.

They looked up from their dish when they noticed the Serkanian sitting down on the opposite side of their table. “You are KesCei?”

KesCei blinked first with their upper, then their lower eye pair. Up close, Zekra could see the beaded strings wrapped around their tusks and the embroidered scarf that covered their throat gland opening. “And I assume you are the client with the Ulushkurrian ship. Should I order you a portion of Felci-Kunu as well?”

“Thanks for the offer, but no. I have a friend waiting for me.”

“Very well,” KesCei said, their voice gaining a quiet thrill. “I have seen the stats of your heat exchange system model and downloaded the blueprints, anything left to do is to make the required parts and install them. Which brings us to the important step before that, namely which parts are supposed to be the required ones.”

“Well, I-” Zekra sharply turned around to glare at a Tolemo rushing out, having nearly stepped on ger tail. Ge curled the appendage tighter around ger legs. “I mostly want to have a system check and a replacement of the worn-out parts.”

The Viessian picked up another ball, their chewing not impeding their vocal organs located on the sides of their neck. “Aside from that, do you wish to have any upgrades to the cooling system? I personally would recommend to use a different type of ceramic for the plasma exhausts, the Ulushkurrians themselves have developed more robust and longer-lasting materials for those.”

“Sounds like a good idea. How much would that cost?”

Two more patrons rushed out, chittering in their native language. Zekra gave them a curious look, but KesCei showed a strangely intense expression when ge focussed on them again.

“They were speaking of a terrorist attack,” the Viessian said, rising onto their legs.

As if on cue, a pair of aerial defence drones flew past, two large, armoured robots with their weapon systems currently hidden inside their streamlined forms.

“We should get out of here,” Zekra said, rising from the mat gerself. KesCei picked their plate up, unwilling to abandon their dish. Both hurried into the direction the drones had come from. Others went into the same direction, some walking at a brisk pace, others running at a breakneck speed and shouting out warnings to others. A few were going into the opposite direction, their curiosity stronger than their sense of self-preservation. A few explosions and crashes could be heard from behind, followed by a loud hollering that easily drowned out the pained or terrified vocalisations of several individuals.

Zekra had to look back.

An entity was standing on the other end of the street, teeth exposed and dragging the corpse of a Tolemo by an arm. Their head, back and tail were covered with messy, dark hair that made them look bigger than they already were. They were unclothed save for tattered rags wrapped around their midsection, revealing an exoskeleton suit supporting their torso and limbs.

The entity fixated the fleeing masses and their grin grew bigger than it already was. They threw the corpse into the direction of a lone Omunu, one of those who had come to look at what was going on. Not bothering to see whether they hit or missed, they leapt forwards immediately after, in a grotesque, four-limbed gait enhanced by their exoskeleton suit.

It took them a few bounds to catch up to the slowest of the fleeing individuals. The first victim was a Wuouss, unable to reach any significant speed with their many stubbly legs. The exoskeleton-wearing creature let both of its large arms crash down onto the Wuouss’ back, the crack of bones barely audible among the panicked vocalisations and the pounding of feet against the ground.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck,” KesCei called out, frantically sticking one Felci-Kunu after another into their mouth, before the collision with a faster Hrrau knocked the plate out of their hands.

“My workshop is close by,” they said after muttering something Zekra assumed to be a hearty curse in a different language. “It is hopefully-”

Zekra never knew what KesCei wanted to say – the attacker had leapt among them and ge quickly lost sight of the Viessian in the ensuing panic. The entity roared and hollered, as if the fear they caused was their greatest delight. Up close, Zekra could identify the individual as a Kineian. From the little ge knew about them, he appeared to be freakishly large and up close, ge could see the exoskeleton suit was not just worn on the outside as support, but actually implanted. It was as if someone had intended to make the already impressive natural strength of a Kineian even more formidable.

Among the panic, a young Limarian had frozen in fear and rather than running, they were frantically chirping for help. Something that immediately caught the Kineian’s attention. His mouth split in a sadistic grin and he almost leisurely walked up the Limarian, who became only more afraid. He lowered his large hand, to either slowly crush the young or to pick them up and do whatever came to his mind.

Whatever he wanted to do remained unknown to anyone but him, as a metal plate first rattled against his outstretched hand, then into his face. It was a mere distraction, but enough for a quick-witted Hrrau to sprint into the scene, pick the young up on the go and flee as quickly as they had arrived.

Deprived of his original target, the Kineian’s head jerked into the direction the plate had come from and his black, beady eyes met Zekra’s.

 _Shit_.

Ge had acted almost on instinct, throwing the plate KesCei left behind and telekinetically directing it in a way to cause the most distraction, to give an opening to the Limarian to escape. To ger misfortune, all the attention of the augmented Kineian was now on ger.

In the blink of an eye, he jumped at Zekra, only ger reflexes from self-defence training saving ger from the Kineian's large arm crashing into the ground where ge was standing just a moment ago.

He reacted in an instant, turning and jabbing his other arm against ger chest. Despite the bad angle, the impact was hard enough to drive ger several steps back. The distraction and the bit of imbalance gave the Kineian enough time to aim a proper strike – it threw Zekra against the adjacent building's walls. Only ger telekinetic abilities prevented worse, slowing ger impact enough to leave ger without anything worse than the air being beaten out of ger lungs.

The Kineian tilted his head in curiosity, before his mouth split in another ferocious grin, revealing yellowish white, block-like teeth. He jumped after his newest target, swinging both fists forward. They collided against the wall with enough force to leave dents. Zekra had managed to dive underneath them and leap away, wrapping ger tail around ger opponent's ankle on the way. Putting all ger natural and telekinetic power into it, ge gave the ankle a yank.

It wasn't enough to have the Kineian lose balance completely, just pulled the leg off the ground – the augmented being reacted by kicking his leg forward to return the favour, but Zekra released the leg and used the bit of distraction to jump onto the Kineian's back. Before ge could do anything, he let himself fall backwards hollering, forcing ger to get off again.

What an idiot. He was like a small child with a hammer, just hitting everything while seeing it as the highest form of entertainment. Except the hammer was an exoskeleton suit and he had a penchant for hitting moving, living targets that became neither moving nor living after he was done.

The Kineian leapt back to his feet as quickly as he had dropped and went at Zekra again. By now, the street had been emptied, everyone who could flee had fled and those too curious were probably watching from a safe distance. Despite being augmented, the attacks were sloppily executed and Zekra could dodge most of them. Still, the Kineian gave ger no opportunity to strike back, either answering with a quick counterattack or repositioning himself in a way that would make any offence futile.

Zekra had no illusions about being able to defeat that Kineian – he was definitely stronger, too fast for ger to use ger fighting style properly and the exoskeleton suit meant ge would tire out faster than he would. Ger best chance was to keep him busy until the damn defence drones finally fond their target.

When the electronic voices droned from the speakers of sleek, armoured machines floating in mid-air, ge did feel relieved. With the Kineian's attention off ger and on machines that outmatched him in every regard, Zekra could run off, leaving the augmented berserk and the drones to deal with each other.

Unfortunately, ge had underestimated the Kineian by several magnitudes.

The sight of the drones elicited a deep growl from him, a much different sound from his mad laughter. He completely ignored the drones’ orders; instead, the metal plates covering his shoulders shifted and revealed hidden energy weapons. There was a high-pitched hum and a dot on the right drone began to glow, quickly spreading and weeping molten metal.

The other drone changed its program and began to shoot at the Kineian, who jumped behind an abandoned car. He was grunting and growling as he put both his arms underneath the vehicle, slowly lifting it off the ground.

Having stopped at the sound of the energy weapon charging up, Zekra realized how much of a danger the Kineian truly was and how much luck ge had that he hadn’t perceived ger as threatening enough. There were two options – to run, get Arqeez and leave Benaxia to this monstrosity, or to do something incredibly stupid and dangerous, that would save many lives of individuals ge would never interact with or think about again.

The car seemed to be at the upper limit of what the Kineian could lift and move. The slow speed he was pushing it off the ground, together with the drone constantly having him at his edge by floating past the makeshift barrier provided plenty of distraction for Zekra to attempt a telekinetic take-out. Crouching down at a distance ge deemed safe, ge began to focus on the Kineian’s internal structures. What ge sensed was terrifying: the Kineian wasn’t just augmented with an exoskeleton suit connected to his bones, his entire body was full of wires and other artificial components.

Pushing ger disdain aside, Zekra narrowed ger focus onto the mass inside the Kineian’s head that was most likely his central nervous system. While the thought of ending a life of a being capable of suffering went against ger very instincts, his continued existence would end the lives of so many more. Yet, it was not an easy task with a target that was constantly on the move, keeping up ger concentration made ger virtually blind to everything else. There was a dull crash in front of ger followed by a roar that made ger focus flicker a little.

It hit ger out of nowhere. The point of ger focus suddenly rushed forward and the next moment something hit ger square in the chest hard enough to fling ger backwards. There was a feeling of sharp pain in ger chest, a complete loss of orientation, an impact against ger back followed by the sound of glass shattering. Regaining enough sense, Zekra could slow down the flight to make the inevitable impact on the ground at least less painful.

Ge found gerself in the middle of a store, one of the large shop windows broken. Getting up on shaky legs with strips of cut clothing sliding off, Zekra noticed the burning lines along ger body left by the shards having cut through ger skin. Against knowing it better, ge telekinetically yanked out those ge could feel still being lodged in ger skin. With the Kineian jumping through the opening he had created by throwing Zekra through it first, the dangers posed by pushing the shards deeper was larger than unblocking any cut blood vessels.

The bloody shards were flung at the Kineian’s face, who blocked them off with his lower arm. There was the sound of glass breaking, but Zekra didn’t have the opportunity to see if some of them made it past the exoskeleton suit, considering the same lower arm was swung right at ger head. Ge jumped backwards, with the Kineian quickly covering the distance and striking at ger head again. This time, ge had to duck underneath it. A terrible mistake – using his own momentum, the Kineian managed to grab Zekra’s tail and swung ger around by it, throwing ger out of the building again.

The hollering followed ger and once again, ge was forced to telekinetically slow gerself down to prevent any injuries. At least ge didn’t hit an intact window on the way out. The Kineian had reached ger barely after ge was on ger feet again, almost casually kicking ger against the opposite building’s wall.

Once again, ger telekinetic powers prevented worse, both making the leg’s impact and the collision with the wall less harsh. Still, ge could feel the broken ribs painfully shifting when landing. The Kineian lunged after ger with an outstretched arm. Avoiding ger last mistake, Zekra jumped to the side, giving the Kineian nothing to grab but the ribbons of ger cut clothing.

There was the sound of tearing when their terrified owner pushed through the resistance. The Kineian was looking at the bunch of blue and grey fabrics in his fist with interest, while Zekra took the opportunity to get away.

Ge didn’t make it far, with ger opponent having the power and speed of his exoskeleton suit at his disposal, he could easily overtake ger and jump into ger way, arms spread and a sadistic grin on his face. Hissing at him with all ger anger and frustration,  Zekra got a telekinetic hold of the abandoned cutlery of a nearby restaurant’s table and threw it at the menace, once again resulting in nothing more than the Kineian’s amusement, despite one pointed item managing to bury itself in his lower arm. He pointedly yanked it out and dropped it, as if to show ger that ge was nothing but a toy to him, something to play with until it broke. And then he retaliated by picking up the whole table and smashing it into ger side.

Arqeez had finished his meal by now and was looking outside through the large window, contemplating whether he should order another portion or continue to watch the passengers, looking out for one with a write and brown pattern. So far, a variety of people had entered and left, creating a constantly shifting but still consistent atmosphere of chatter, the clatter of crockery and smells of the various food being served.

But now that he thought of it, Arqeez did notice a difference – it was unusually quiet, the voices more hushed and there were a few more smells mixing in. Looking back from the window, he noticed that many had abandoned their tables, staring at the screens in solemn silence. Maybe the movies showed there were especially inte resting, which prompted Arqeez to get up from his spot and walk towards one of the screens to ta ke a look himself.

What he saw didn't appear that impressive to warrant all the attention. There were tall, cylindrical buildings, looking like those he could see outside dominating the horizon in one direction. The focus on the screen was a street with two small objects moving on it. Arqeez wasn't quite able to make out what it was, they were constantly colliding and separating, as if one was throwing the other around.

He had seen better movies on the  _Sciara_ 's screens during the flights.

Yet, the bar's patrons were staring at the screen as if mesmerized, most quiet, a few talking in hushed voices.

“Just what is that thing?”

“My money is on the Dian-Koref feud, those scoundrels would do anything to hurt each other, no matter who gets in their crossfire.”

“Why are the police drones not all over the place?”

“This is so horrifying...”

“Twelve gams on the smaller one croaking in the next four secondaries.”

Just as Arqeez wanted to go back to his spot, the view changed from the faraway vista to an extremely shaky recording of a pale grey Tolemo speaking into the recording device.

“I think I'm almost there, this is Sector E 6 F. Can you hear it? I can hear it.” The recording lost focus, was nothing but blurs, accompanied by the sounds of the Tolemo's running footsteps, as well as crashes, a sort of roaring and an oddly-familiar cry of pain. Then the view was back on the face.

“I can't believe I'm risking this.” The view stabilized with the face looking to the right, its colouration growing ever paler. Then it tilted away to show an adjacent street, revealing what the two small moving objects from the vista actually were.

It showed a hulking figure that was partially covered in coarse hair, partially obscured by metal attached to its body grabbing a white and brown figure by the neck and slamming it into the ground, upon which it curled and kicked the other against the back of the arm, tail aimed for the face. The hairy creature grabbed the appendage and flung the smaller figure around by it and against the ground, making its roaring noise again. As the smaller figure stumbled back onto its legs and the bigger one launched itself at it, the view cut away and back to the Tolemo's face.

“Fuck, I hope that beast hasn't noticed me. Not sure if I could risk another view.”

Arqeez didn't care if the Tolemo filming would show more of it or not. He had been mortified while being shown the fight and the moment it cut back to the Tolemo, he had run out of the pub, into the direction the rail wagon station was.

He knew exactly who the white and brown figure was, even if ger usual attire was gone and he couldn't get a proper look at ger face. He would recognize those kinds of movement anywhere.

Luckily, the rail wagon station was close and there was even a wagon present. Fumbling the currency module out of his pocket, Arqeez stepped inside. During the days Zekra had been driving with him across Benaxia's outskirts from one repair shop to another, he had become decently familiar with how the wagons worked.

Once inside, he was met with a group of lanky, scraggly bipeds with upright tails blocking the way by surrounding a Varufoi who was almost buried under the layers of robes they were wearing.

“But come ooon, I know you have one module to spare, or two. Don't be so selfish.”

“Yeah, there is no way I want to miss that fight in the inner city. Spare us some money.”

“Stop. Pestering. Me!” the Varufoi shouted at them in exasperation, whistling through their nasal tubes for emphasis. “My brother is in there and you are keeping up the rail wagon!”

Arqeez quickly evaluated the situation and took an according decision. Grabbing the nearest pest by the tail, he threw them out of the door in a wide arch. With high-pitched, thrilling shrieks, the rest ran outside on their own accords. Arqeez just stomped past the dumbfounded Varufoi and settled into one of the cubicles, jamming the currency module into the corresponding slot. He remained standing, both left hands closed around the metal bar in the middle and eyes directed outside in an unfocused stare.

“Thanks, I guess,” he heard from behind, then steps and the characteristic sound of a currency module connecting with a reader. Shortly after, the rail wagon set itself into motion.

It was a futile fight. Zekra didn’t have a chance from its very beginning. There was only one reason ge was still alive - the Kineian was carefully dosing his strength to extend his fun as much as possible. It took all ger physical and telekinetic skill to be able to defend gerself against the monstrosity’s onslaught to this point.

Still, he was whittling his toy down bit by bit, the bruising, abrasions, broken bones and fatigue adding up and bringing ger closer to the point ge would be unable to fight back any more.

Zekra almost didn’t feel the  screen’s crinkles digging into ger skin any more when ger back collided with the car, barely hearing the shattering of the  windshield in between the strained breaths and the rushing of blood in ger ears. The Kineian decided to jump at ger in a wide, exoskeleton-enhanced arc, hollering all the way down. Ge pulled gerself out of the way, unceremoniously falling on the  ground while both of ger adversary’s fists slammed into the car, crushing its entire front. The clumsy attempt to roll over and get back on ger feet got cut short by a large hand closing around one of ger legs. Zekra was lifted off the ground by the Kineian, his stupid, annoying face grinning at ger upside-down. 

The view quickly turned into a flurry of colours and shades, and since it was being active more or less all the time by now, ger telekinetic sensing gave ger a forewarning before ge hit the ground, allowing ger fall to slow to the point it just reminded ger of all the broken bones rather than adding any more. The flurry stopped and solidified into a sky, brilliantly blue with a few white clouds passing past.

_Just to lay there a bit longer…_

A moment or eternity later, the Kineian’s face entered the view. He wasn’t grinning this time, his lips being pressed together in an expression that might or might not be disapproval. The plating of his shoulders unfolded, revealing the two energy weapons held inside.

“Just get it over with, you piece of shit,” Zekra pressed out.

The Kineian’s eyes wandered up and down, before his mouth split into his usual ferocious grin again. The energy weapons swivelled away from Zekra and upwards, their hum quickly rising in pitch as they charged up. At first, Zekra thought he had found yet more drones to shoot down – he had interrupted the fight several times before to quickly obliterate any of them coming close. But turning ger head, ge could see his target wasn’t a drone, but rather the façade of the skyscraper close by.

Lines were molten into the material, windows shattered, cracks spread. Zekra only had time to sharply inhale before ge understood what the Kineian was planning, then the entire wall came down. There was another hollering that quickly grew quieter as the Kineian jumped away, quickly drowned out by the rumbling of the falling debris. There were impacts all around ger, prompting ger to curl up to leave less area by the rubble to hit. There was a deafening slam to the left, a cloud of dust taking ger sight, the presence of something large and heavy rushing down at ger.

The slab hit and shattered in another deafening crash and a rain of smaller particles, burying Zekra underneath. Almost on reflex, ge managed to get a telekinetic hold of the crumbling wall now right above ger, the hold and both ger arms pressed against it being the only thing preventing it from coming down fully. More dull crashing and rumbling could be heard outside, almost drowned out by ger strained breathing and the rushing of blood in ger ears.

_Shit_ , ge thought. This was a trap ge couldn’t get out of.  The remains of g er strength w ere waning, soon enough ger arms were shaking from pushing against the deadly ceiling of ger debris prison. It was only a matter of time until ge couldn’t push back any more and would have to accept ger fate.

Violet eyes closed. This was it. This was how it would end. Maybe it would have been a better decision to have remained on Serkanis after all, to live the boring life of a physician there. At least there would be a life.

Gold eyes opened.

After all that dull-minded time in a few tiny rooms, this big, open place was surely much more exciting. So much space to run riot, so many things to break, so many beings to kill… Selom was having the time of his life, indeed. Laughing at his heart’s content, he was freely jumping and running through the streets, always in search for a new toy to play with. The flying metal ones were no fun, he preferred to shoot them down the moment he saw them. Too much resistance. The fleshy ones on the ground, on the other hand…

His heat sensors registered a signature underneath a pile of unidentified garbage in a niche between two buildings. Tearing it away revealed a creature with an elongate neck, several folded limbs and a body clad in clothing with a red and yellow pattern. A pair of eyes was staring up at him in sheer horror, a sight Selom adored. His grin made them widen only further, then he grabbed his find by that long neck and repeatedly bashed the body against the wall. There was a high-pitched shriek before the first impact, a bit of gurgling before the second, then the thing remained silent.

Selom looked at the creature in disappointment. It hung limp in his hand, the limbs sticking out at odd angles and even the eyes lacked the expression of fear, being half-closed and staring into nothing. His toys always broke so fast.

Quiet sounds from behind let him perk up his ears and turn around. They were footsteps, coming from an all too familiar sight. It was the creature he had been playing with before, the only one that had managed to put up an interesting fight so far. He was sure he had finished it, yet him taking down the wall of a building down on it seemed to have no visible effect. It did look a bit different now – rather than the brown pattern he had freed from the grey and blue clothing before, there were purple rings, constantly shifting and trembling in a mesmerizing pattern, while the eyes, once violet and filled with the terror he loved, were now yellow and transfixed on his own in an unrelenting stare.

Selom bared his teeth. He had grown bored of this toy. Activating the energy weapons mounted on his shoulders, he aimed them directly at his target this time. They charged with a hum rising in pitch, released – and were stopped by several metres of rock and earth rising from the ground, the invisible beams uselessly burning themselves into them.

With a look of confusion, Selom stopped firing. The block sunk back into the ground, revealing the advancing creature again. With a growl, he unfolded the weapons on his shoulders further, activating their projectile department. A true hailstorm of bullets was sent at the creature, but just as he charged his weapons up, several cars suddenly took a life of their own, flew off their places and crashed into each other to form a floating, spinning barricade that caught every single one of the projectiles. The moment the shooting stopped, they separated again, flung against the street and buildings, commanded by a single hand gesture of the creature.

Going back to energy weapon mode, Selom charged them again, but the hum was interrupted by a sharp pain. Invisible hands crushed the metal on his shoulders, bending it and tearing it away, taking his strongest weapon from him. It had taken the creature nothing but another hand gesture, it was still walking on unhindered, the gaze of its yellow eyes boring itself into his own.

For the first time in his life, Selom felt something else than sadistic joy or anger. It was fear.

Survive. That was the only imperative. Whatever obstacle there was thrown in its way was to be blocked off. If it kept being in the way, it was to be removed. If it kept getting in its way, it was to be destroyed. There was no other way. Surviving was the only thing that mattered.

It was frustrating to wait. The rail wagon felt like it was crawling along its tracks, interrupting for every station. More people got in, some appearing fearful, a few excited. Arqeez ignored most of them, staring out of the window with his frustration barely under control. He took it out on the metal bar he held onto, having already bent it with his constant pushing and pulling.

The city outside was strangely empty. While he had never visited the inner part with its tall skyscrapers and the smaller buildings in their shadows, even the city’s outskirts had looked more lively.

Eventually, the rail wagon came to a standstill again, on a station that was overfilled with waiting people.

“Dear passengers, this is the end station,” an electronic voice announced. “Due to unforeseen circumstances, the rail wagon will drive back on its route. Please disembark.”

Removing his currency module  from its slot, Arqeez got out of the wagon with the few other passengers, through a  path formed in the mass of waiting people. 

_What now_ ? 

He knew Zekra was there somewhere, fighting against... well, whatever that creature on the screen from the pub was. Unfortunately, there was nothing but abandoned streets in front of him, a maze between buildings too tall to see over.

The eerie silence of the inner city was interrupted by a dull crash in the distance to his left. Since it was his best guess, Arqeez followed the sound's direction.

There were only few people he saw on his search for his companion. A face covered in an iridescent blue exoskeleton peeked out of a window, timidly looking around before vanishing again. Two smaller entities sprinted past him on their four long legs, one of them carrying a pile of cloth on their back that was as big as their torso. One he could identify as a Limarian by now stood in front of some kind of burning wreck lying in the middle of the street.

The Limarian's head turned as Arqeez walked past. “Excuse me, would you mind to accompany me for a bit?”

“No.” The last thing Arqeez needed now was someone distracting him.

The Limarian put their head askew, the colourful plates changing positions. “'No', as in 'I don't mind accompanying you', or 'I don't want to'?”

Upon Arqeez' growling response, they raised their front limbs in a defensive position. “No, I didn't want to offend! I'm just seeking for someone I can feel safe with to go to the epicentre of those events transpiring in the city right now. You are going there, don't you?”

Arqeez slowed down a bit. “Do you know what is happening? Where it is?”

“I don't know _what_ is happening, that is why I need to get there. As for the 'where', the local map has the point marked.” They raised their left arm, to show the wrist computer attached to it. 

“Then lead me there.”

The Limarian said something truncated and unintelligible, then sped up to walk ahead. The streets grew ever emptier as they progressed and there were more of those wrecked machines as the one Arqeez had encountered the Limarian at. The occasional crashes got louder and clearer.

“Wait,” he called the Limarian to stop. There was dust in the air that dominated the smells of the inner city and stuck to the hairs of his antennae, but it was unable to dull what the gust of wind carried to him. Looking into the direction the wind had come from, Arqeez spotted a pile of grey and blue cloth. Hurrying there, he picked it up, recognizing it as Zekra's usual attire, cut and torn, their owner nowhere near. There were damp spots on them that left dark blue streaks on Arqeez' hands. Exhaling with tension, Arqeez took the cloth pieces into one of his smaller arms and continued to follow the impatiently-waiting Limarian.

“Looking for friends or family left in the inner city, I see?” the Limarian asked. “In that case, the best guess would be the alleys. Most have been hiding in them, or inside public buildings, but those would be a hassle to search.”

“Not in the alleys. Not in the buildings. Fighting the thing with the metal on its body.”

The Limarian stopped, their four black, unmoving eyes facing Arqeez in surprise. “ You don’t mean the vertically-oriented one with stripes on their face, by any chance? In that case I have to disappoint you, that monstrosity had taken down any of the heavily-armoured police drones they encountered in a matter of primary UTUs, most likely they had to find another victim to tear into by now.”

“I don't care. I want to see myself what is happening right now.”

Eventually, they encountered signs of destruction that went beyond the destroyed drones. A collapsed front of a skyscraper forced them to take a wide detour, as the Limarian insisted it was too dangerous due to the building possibly collapsing further every moment. Then they were on a street that looked like someone had dug through it, shattered cobblestones, earth and crushed cars were almost everywhere. On his way, Arqeez spotted a few blue spots on an upturned cobblestone, a characteristic, stinging smell still  lingering around them. A sight that gave him both hope and dread. 

Following the Limarian past a number of inactive street cleaning drones nearly blocking the narrow alley, Arqeez' dread was finally evaporated by what he saw ahead, but it was replaced by confusion.

Th e pale creature rushing at the shaggy monstrosity with the ground following like a pair of waves to crash into its opponent was clearly a Serkanian, that much Arqeez could recognize. But the way ge moved, the purple shifting skin pattern, the unrestrained ferocity ge fought the partially metallic creature with was so unlike Zekra. 

He remained standing in the shade of the alley with the Limarian, watching the angered monstrosity burst from the rubble to jump at the Serkanian with an incensed roar. The Serkanian dodged the attack and the large cobblestones that formed the street met them instead, hitting them in the face and chest.

Flinging their arms forwards, the unknown creature tried to grab the assailant, catching nothing but thin air. Growling, they charged and struck immediately at the Serkanian. The street underneath them bent downward, making them lose their footing, letting them fall into a cobblestone erupting from the ground. The impact sent them backwards, adding more scabs to their already battered form.

Springing back into position almost immediately, the creature roared in unbridled rage, throwing themselves at the Serkanian before the scream had stopped echoing between the buildings. They threw several punches and swings at their opponent, who methodically either jumped out of the way or had the strikes be met with cobblestones torn from the street below. In its blind rage, the shaggy creature didn’t see the car rising from its toppled position, quickly picking up speed in its flat trajectory and slam into their side. The impact sent them flying several metres away and out of Arqeez’ sight, the Serkanian sprinting off after them.

“Crap!” the Limarian exclaimed.

Having fewer inhibitions, Arqeez left the alley to see around the corner. The street was curved and the fight had moved away further, forcing him to follow the rumbling and roaring. When he saw the two entities fighting again, they were close to one of the skyscrapers, a barrage of cobblestones throwing the shaggy creature against the wall, the Serkanian going after them as if the wall was just another floor. The fight briefly continued on the wall, with the Serkanian paying no heed to gravity while the shaggy creature dug their fingers into the steep surface to hold onto it. A large part of the wall came loose, moving too quickly and unnaturally to have broken off on its own, crashing into the street with the shaggy creature still hanging onto it. They burst out of the rubble, covered in grey dust. Or at least tried, considering their legs and tail were still underneath the broken-off wall.

The Serkanian returned to the ground and walked up the dislodged wall’s slope, staring at ger opponent with no expression at all, then raised ger right arm. The building to ger side creaked, the exposed metal wires bending under unseen forces until they broke and remained floating in the air. The arm dropped and with it, the wire pieces were sent down like a volley of spears, piercing into the broken-off wall section and skewering the creature trapped underneath. They roared again, but this time, it was pain rather than rage.

The Serkanian walked closer to the trapped and wounded creature, who fiercely struggled against the wire pieces  punched through their body and limbs. Ge came to a standstill on the wall piece, looking at ger opponent with the same expressionless face ge had throughout the entire fight Arqeez had seen. All of a sudden, the trapped creature cried out in pain, then their head jerked backward in an angle Arqeez deemed impossible while their entire  exposed  body began to tremble with jerky movements and unnatural angles. A last rearing, a spurt of blood from the creature’s mouth, and it was still. The Serkanian remained staring at the now-dead creature, the only part of ger moving were the strange, violet patterns that looked like dancing circles.

Against any better judgement, Arqeez stepped forward.

“Zekra?”

The Serkanian lifted ger head to face him, eyes as yellow as his own. Stopping in his tracks, Arqeez only realized now how reckless his action was – there was no guarantee that the Serkanian wouldn’t go after him now that ger previous opponent was slain.

But rather than attacking or doing anything, the Serkanian just stared back. Ge blinked slowly, but when the eyes opened again, they were a familiar violet. The dancing rings solidified, flowed apart into a brown pattern of unmoving spots and stripes.

Then Zekra collapsed as if the  vanishing of the dancing rings had taken ger consciousness away  as well .

Benaxia’s inner city was a mess. No one could clearly tell what had happened there. Some said it was a terrorist attack, others claimed it was a recipient of an illegal augmentation having gone mad. The circumstances of the attacker’s demise were even less clear; it was evident it hadn’t been caused by the defence drones, most of which had been destroyed. A few of the earliest reports claimed it was done by a Serkanian, but those claims were quickly brushed off as preposterous, likely being results of a stress-induced misinterpretation of events.

It was a matter to be pieced together later, anyway – finding and aiding the injured was the topmost priority. The hospitals could barely keep up with tending to all of their patients injured either by the rampage directly, by the collapsing buildings, by being trampled or falling while fleeing, or by being attacked by opportunistic looters. The waiting rooms were overflowing with those having only minor injuries, while those less capable of waiting for aid were being taken care of first.

Arqeez looked at his companion lying unconscious on the movable cot. The streaks of blue blood had been removed, many sections of ger exposed skin were shining with a substance the nearby nurse had told him to be artificial skin, covering both the sweeping cuts and abrasions, but also the smaller incisions that were added later during the surgery, where probes had been inserted to mend broken bones and other internal injuries. Still sedated, Zekra wasn’t even able to breathe by gerself, this function being currently taken over by the mask strapped over ger face and connected over a number of tubes and wires to an apparatus.

“When will ge wake up?”

The nurse, a vertically-oriented entity with an oddly-elongate head consisting mostly of a stilt bearing a pair of eyes and antennae on its top, turned said stilt around while the rest kept facing the screen of  the apparatus  next to the cot . “Two tertiary universal time units at most. Maybe three. If it takes longer, you will have to administer the antidote.”

“Me?” Arqeez asked in confusion. Wasn’t that the nurse’s responsibility?

Turning their whole body around, the nurse walked to the cot, their large grey eyes halfways reaching over to Arqeez on the other side. “Listen, you can’t stay here. The sooner you leave, the better. Preferably as quickly and inconspicuously as possible.”

Noticing Arqeez putting his antennae askew, they continued. “That fucking thing that wrecked the city? I don’t care what the speculation of the moment is, I put my money on this shit-stirrer being a military experiment having escaped. I have heard of a similar case happening once. Now think, what will they do if they find out how their experiment croaked and who had caused that?”

“They would enact revenge?”

The nurse made an odd whistling sound quickly rising in pitch. “You would wish they did. You see, they have no scruples about experimenting on sentient or sapient lifeforms. If they can track down who had killed their newest experiment, they would likely try to get a hold of the winner and use them as the superior replacement. Melt their mind with drugs, graft all kinds of weapon systems on their body, reshape them through surgical and biotechnological means to suit their needs. This is why you should get away from here. Put as much distance between you and this place as you can, as soon as you can. The older the traces they have to work with, the better. The staff had been informed already, officially your friend had died during the surgery and the remains were processed. As soon as ge can breathe on ger own, you will be left out. I wish you luck in advance.”

The space harbour was bustling with activity, but the atmosphere was solemn. In between the ships, several containers holding dead bodies were among the cargo boxes, while their surviving associates were preparing to leave. Not everyone had this kind of luxury; some of the ships parked there would never see their owners again, the friends and relatives far away finding out about their demise much later, when there will be no body left to take home.

In this solemn atmosphere, an unknown exoskeletal carrying a bundle wrapped in a blanket was just another visitor who had lost a friend in the inner city rampage.

Carefully readjusting the bundle's weight, Arqeez trod the path to the  _Sciara_ . Luckily, Zekra had given him the remote control for the ship, allowing him to enter without a hassle. 

Once the door was closed and they were out of the sight of curious eyes, the Idrath was at a loss. The nurse had told them to leave as soon as possible, the reasons they had given were very compelling. He walked over to the front edge on the room's other wall, resting one of his hands on the intact pallet above his own two mattresses. Zekra preferred to use this one for rest, as the pallets on the other side were blocked by cargo most of the time. Just let ger sleep the sedation off, explain ger everything and depart...

But the nurse had been very clear with them having to act quickly. The hand slipped off the pallet.

Entering the cockpit instead, Arqeez placed his unconscious companion on the copilot seat, still wrapped in the blanket with just ger head being freed from it, in a more or less curled-up position and fastened with safety belts. That was the easy part.

Sitting down in the pilot seat, Arqeez gave the instruments a look-over. It was a slightly new angle, but they were basically a mirrored version of the controls of his own side. He put his hands on the steering module, thinking of what to do next. Having seen Zekra operate the instruments so often, he should be able to remember what to do.

Tap the second button counted from the left, pull the lever up, third button. The  _Sciara_ 's turbines howled to life, rattling the entire ship. Arqeez pulled the module back like he remembered Zekra doing it – too  far , judging by how the ship lurched backward. His frantic readjustments were met with more erratic movements, but at least, he managed to keep the  _Sciara_ remaining in the air as it slowly rose off the ground. It didn't take long for the ship to stabilize, as Arqeez grew accustomed to how much he had to move the module. The ground removed itself ever further while more of the city ahead became visible. Assuming he was high enough, Arqeez tapped a few more buttons, then began to tilt the module forwards, with the  _Sciara_ slowly changing its direction accordingly.

A rustle and a mumbled sound took his attention off the sight beyond the windscreens. The blanket on the copilot seat was shifting, then a hand closed around the armrest, pulling a head over it.

Zekra looked like ge had trouble keeping ger eyes open, looking around in confusion, as if unable to process where ge was.

“You're awake!” Arqeez called out, antennae raised high.

“Where...” Zekra's eyes wandered through the cockpit, then set on Arqeez and the steering module he was holding. “What the _fuck_!”

The stirring beneath the blanket turned into an agitated writhing as two legs freed themselves from it while an arm crawled up the safety belt to unfasten it. Zekra half climbed, half fell out of the copilot seat, stumbling over to Arqeez and hitting a button.

“SC1-26B-AI25 speaking, has this ship been giving clearance?”

“No, it has not,” came an angry answer, “I was trying to contact you for the last sec! What is going on with you?”

“Technological problems.”

“You can either land, or go through the coordinates I have just sent you! Fuck this terrorist with a-” the harbour's ground control broke off the connection.

Zekra reached over to activate the small screen, gave the letters on it a quick look-over, then pushed the control module to the left.

“And now, _get the... get the fuck out of here_ ,” ge hissed at Arqeez. He didn't find the threat particularly compelling, considering Zekra's trembling stance, both ger hands planted on the pilot seat for support, ger strained breathing. Even Arqeez could tell ge was not in a state to fly the ship.

“I have a better idea.”

Reaching over, Arqeez got a hold of his companion with three of his arms, lifting ger over the armrest and placing ger in his lap.

Zekra was too dumbstruck by the action to protest at first, and  the ensuing struggling was short due to the pain it caused.

“Arq, _what the fuck_! Let me down immediately!”

Arqeez’s arms remained holding ger close. “Please calm down, I do not want you to faint while flying. That way, you can’t fall out of the seat and I can move the controls for you if you want.”

Ge had to take several deep, aching breaths just to process the situation. It was absurd and deeply embarrassing, but Arqeez was right. He did manage to start the  _Sciara_ and get it off the ground without ger aid after all, and ge could barely keep gerself upright at ger current state. Besides, ge couldn’t deny that half-sitting, half-lying atop ger hard but warm companion did feel nice.

Shifting a bit to be able to look at the screen and out of the windows, Zekra got a hold of the steering module with a foot to keep the ship on the given track. It rattled up into the sky, past the insubstantial cloud layer. Stretching ger leg out further, Zekra tried to reach the buttons that would turn the turbines off and activate the antigravity drive, but failed.

“Tell me what I have to do,” Arqeez said, his deep, rumbling voice making his chest vibrate against Zekra’s head.

Ge pulled the leg back underneath the blanket. “Press the leftmost button on the middle row. Then the second one from the right on the right row. Good. Now look at the screen. Make sure the dot in the middle remains within the hexagon, it’s not too different from the game we have played lately.”

With the howling and rattling of the turbines having died down and Arqeez steering the ship along the ground control’s directions, Zekra found it ever harder to stay awake.

“Now tell me, what had forced you to launch the ship by yourself?” ge asked, just to keep focus.

“The hospital workers had told me to leave as quickly as possible, because the creators of that creature with metal on its body would use you for the next experiment after you had killed it.”

Ge looked up, at Arqeez chin spikes hovering above ger head. “Who told you that kind of shit? I was buried underneath a collapsing wall, that is the last thing I can remember. The fucker sent it down on me and ran off.”

“I have seen it myself. You were fighting them, moving cars, sections of the street, tearing parts of buildings out to trap and skewer them.”

“Arq, you do know what it sounds like. That is completely absurd.”

“I don’t know what you were doing there,” he replied, shifting a little. “But I saw what I saw. You weren’t yourself there. At first I didn’t even recognize you, with your yellow eyes and the purple rings dancing over your skin.”

Zekra just laid there for a few moments, eyes wide in disbelief. “That is impossible, Arq. That is just impossible.”

“What is impossible?” Arqeez glanced down at his companion.

“That thing you saw there, Arqeez, that was t-trance. Just what the fuck…”

“What is that?”

There were several long moments of silence before Zekra began to speak again. “It... could be best described as a mental state, like sleep-walking. There isn't known much about it and many see it as just a legend. I certainly did. Supposedly, it's something most telekinetic species can do, because as different as the nervous systems of those are, all of them have smaller or larger arrays of specific structures called tau-spindles, which look almost identical in every telekinetic species. These tau-spindles are responsible for telekinetic abilities. I did tell you how telekinesis is like waves, and this is what the tau-spindles generate. Waves and frequencies. As far as I know, a combination of stress and overstraining the tau-spindles can lead to more parts of the brain synchronizing and falling into their frequency, until most of the brain is firing in unison with them. It greatly enhances the telekinetic powers, but at the cost of losing higher brain function as long as the state is sustained. This is... why I remember nothing of it. And why I… did things I would never think of normally...” ger voice faded out.

“But what about the yellow eyes or the dancing rings?”

Zekra opened ger eyes, not having noticed when ge had closed them, took a look at the  _Sciara_ ’s screen. With everything still being in order, ge shifted into a position that allowed ger to soak up more of Arqeez’ warmth, feelings of embarrassment and inappropriateness all but forgotten. The injuries sustained in the fight against the Kineian must have been pretty bad if it had put ger into a feverish state like this. “I don’t know. There are some theories about it, but… I never really looked into them...”

Arqeez had understood half of what Zekra told him, at best. Maybe he would ask ger to explain it better later, considering ger current state. He focussed on keeping the ship on track for now, delighted how easy it was despite him steering the real thing rather than just a little picture on a screen. Eventually, the hexagon vanished and there was nothing but the dot in the middle.

“Zekra, what now?”

There was no response, the Serkanian had fallen asleep. Arqeez didn’t try to wake ger, he knew ge needed the rest after all what happened in Benaxia. Unless there was something unusual outside or on the screen, he was fine with just sitting there, his companion snuggled up against his chest.

What a weird day, beginning with an ordinary ship repair and ending with a premature departure because of a creature rampaging in the city and Zekra taking them out while being in an odd state… yet, at the moment, Arqeez couldn’t complain. Despite everything, it had turned out well in the end. His smaller pair of arms still wrapped around the Serkanian, he kept looking at the screen and out of the windows to watch out for any irregularities. He had no clue where the ship was going, that was certainly one of Zekra’s responsibilities. But with ger currently being out of order, it would end up anywhere. Either way, after he had seen what Zekra was capable of, Arqeez was sure they would be able to deal with whatever the world would throw at them.


End file.
